


You Are One Of My Lights

by IPaige



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-08-07 05:03:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 44,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7701853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IPaige/pseuds/IPaige
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Murphy has a past, one he'd prefer to keep to himself but when an old friend begins to lose herself. His forced to bring her into the small and somewhat fragmented group of friends his made. However, he never thought bringing her into his new life might just help them both.</p>
<p>Clarke is broken, has been for a long time. But it appears asking an old friend for help, might give her more then what she thought she was asking for or needed. New friends, new opportunities, a new life and maybe even a chance at love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so I'll be completely honest this is the first ever work I've posted online and I have the next few chapters already written and the story planned out but I wanted to see out it would be received before I posted anymore. So feel free to let me know what you think and if it would be worth continuing.
> 
> P.S, Clarke will come into the story, just not for another chapter or two, (if I continue).

Bellamy’s POV

Murphy was a recent addition to the group. He’d been mine and Miller’s roommate for the last 7 months and in that time we’d learnt that he was snarky, rude and somewhat cruel at times (most of the time actually). Unfortunately when I’d used that as an excuse to not invite him to the family gatherings (the weekly Thursday night gathering of our (originally Octavia’s) friends). Octavia had been quick to remind me that I was in fact snarky, rude and although I wasn’t cruel, I could be “old-man grumpy.” So really I didn’t have much of choice. Although I’m willing to bet that she regretted making that demand when Murphy started coming every Thursday, where he’d spend the night insulting our friends, movie choice and basically anyone or anything any chance he got. 

Yet. Despite that, Murphy had still become a part of the ‘family.’ So it was odd to notice 5 months after he’d joined the family, that we still basically knew nothing about him.  
“Bell you’re the closest to him, how can you not know anything about him?”

“I’m the closest to him?!  
How the hell did we get to that conclusion? You’re the one who wanted to invite him to the gatherings”

“You live with him, you talk to him. Even during the gatherings you’re the only one who really talks to him. He just trades insults with everyone else” 

“I hate to tell you this Octavia, but I see and speak to Murphy about as much as you do. I barely see him, his a bartender he works nights and sleeps during the day. With my Grad units, research and the classes I TA for. I only see him on Thursday nights, just like you. Besides his not exactly open about his life”

“I didn’t wanna tell you this Bell… But Jasper thinks Murphy’s a drug dealer”

I couldn’t help the laugh that burst from my chest. 

“I’m serious Bell, what if Murphy’s a really bad guy. He can be very creepy, his always getting texts and talking on the phone in hushed tones and never says where his goi-“

“Your right Octavia! It’s almost like Murphy has his own life, one which we are not apart of, one that he has a right to keep to himself”

“Come on! Just admit his creepy!”

“Octavia – “

“No Bell, I’m serious, Jasper says that Murphy is very…”

“Octavia, your taking advice from Jasper about drug dealers. The guy who often brings his own extra strength pot brownies, to any events he can. Constantly has at least two bottles of Monty’s moonshine around for, should we really be trusting his advise about drug dealers? Besides his probably just private, he has a right to be”

“Well, I guess your right, but I’m keeping an eye on him from now on, and I think you should too”

“Sure, Octavia.”

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

And while I had finished the conversation with an eye-roll and promised myself I’d ignore the conversation. I couldn’t help but notice that Murphy was very private and anytime I attempted to get to know him, he’d deflect any and all questions. While it was done with snarky comments, which I’d come to expect from Murphy, it was clear he didn’t want to talk about himself or his past and I would have completely forgotten the conversation if I hadn’t come home from my last class I was TA-ing on Monday night to find Murphy in the kitchen talking in hushed whispers. He’d stop at intervals, apparently when the person on the other end, would reply to Murphy.  
“Just tell me where you are!”  
“Stop it!”  
“WHERE ARE YOU?”

Whoever it was must have hang up, because Murphy began swearing and smashed his phone into the bench. Where it immediately broke and become unusable, “fuck”  
It wasn’t exactly a situation that I could ignore and after Octavia’s conversation the other week I was very suspicious.  
I contemplated asking him, but just as I was about to speak he’d bent over with his hand on his knees, his breathing was labored and I could almost swear he was near tears.  
I moved forward without thinking but the movement must have caught Murphy’s eye, because he stood fast and the scowl on his face could revel one of mine. 

“Are yo-“  
He’d left the kitchen before I could really process what had happened, the front door slammed, hard enough to make the windows shake.  
The broken phone was left on the bench. 

 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Miller, something was off. He wasn’t acting like Murphy”

“Bellamy like you said so yourself, we don’t really know him”

The door open then, Murphy looked into the kitchen, “Hey, can you throw that piece of crap in the bin?”  
He nodded towards the broken phone on the bench before heading towards the stairs and up to his room. Miller noticed the look on my face and quickly shook his head.  
“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t think it, don’t do it”

 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

I tried hard to follow that order but Wednesday morning, as I was about to leave for my job at the coffee shop. Murphy emerged from his room, and considering it was 7:30 am, and I wasn’t even aware that Murphy knew the world functioned before 1pm. To say I was surprised would be an understatement. It was for that reason that when he walked out the door without looking at me and walked directly to his car, I decided that missing one shift of work, when I’d never called in sick - could be a good decision.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I got some positive feedback on the first chapter and it appeared that a few people were quite interested in seeing where this story could go. So, here it is.... Hopefully you enjoy!  
> ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Bellamy would swear on his baby sister’s life that he wasn’t overly extreme in any way, in fact he’d describe himself as very easy going – (he was very, very wrong). The fact that he was currently following Murphy through the streets of New York had absolutely no connection to the first statement. None at all. This wasn’t an extreme course of action; this was an appropriate course action, one that was carefully considered and then preformed.

 

So as Bellamy made sure to keep at least two cars between Murphy’s car and his own truck, he considered exactly what Murphy could be doing. The whole time attempting to convince himself that there was no way Murphy was a drug dealer/wanted criminal. Because Bellamy had hand picked Murphy from the few applicants, which applied for the room at Bellamy and Miller’s. There was no way that Bellamy would have picked someone who could potentially hurt his sister and friends. Despite the attitude, Murphy wasn’t actually too bad. Distant and cold, but he never gave off the vibe that he was a truly ‘bad guy,’ Bellamy knew bad guys, and while Murphy gave off a vibe, it wasn’t one that Bellamy would associate with the kind of guy you should completely steer clear of. Bellamy was a good judge of character, so he was very, very sure of his decision to let Murphy into his house and life. Well he was….. Until about 30 minutes ago, when Murphy started acting very strange.

 

Murphy’s car pulled into a car park on a side street and Bellamy decided to park two streets down. He risked losing him, but it was better then being seen by him. Murphy was standing at a building, it looked nice, the area was nicer then their place. Murphy seemed to be pulling himself together, for someone who never seemed nervous; right now he reeked of anxious energy. By the time Bellamy reached the door, Murphy was already inside and now Bellamy was unsure of what course of action he should take. The apartment building had one of those security code keypads for entry; he was a bit stumped about what he expected to do after following Murphy. But entering the apartment building didn’t appear to be an option. Bellamy guessed he could stand by the door and wait for someone else to enter and follow them, but he didn’t know what apartment Murphy was in and it’s not like he could go around and knock on every door. What would he say if Murphy answered the door?

 

“Hey, I was just knocking on every door in this building in an attempt to work our who you’re seeing and if they are either your buyer or the mob boss in the drug ring your obviously involved in.”

 

For some reason, Bellamy didn’t believe Murphy would take that well. He had a temper and tended to resort to fists when the temper flared up. Bellamy had seen him drunk and angry enough times to know that although Bellamy could take him in a fight, but he wouldn’t walk away unharmed either. There was also the off chance that he was wrong and he was needlessly invading his friend’s personal life (are they friends?).

But for now Bellamy was stuck, waiting around would look weird but he wasn’t going inside either. Therefore, he couldn’t really judge what Murphy was up to, so cancelling work and following Murphy hadn’t really helped Bellamy judge whether there really was something off about Murphy, didn’t drug dealers work in back alleys and wear dark black hoods? Couldn’t Murphy be more obvious about whether he was a drug dealer. It didn’t appear Bellamy was going to find out today. So he’d wasted most of his morning, just great.

 

It was almost 9am, Bellamy could probably call Echo and organize to do some kind of work at the study center at the university and then at least he wouldn’t have wasted his whole morning _and_ lost a pay check. It meant giving up on the whole ~~Murphy stalking plan~~ carefully planed course of action, but it seemed like a good idea to give up on that anyway. Releasing a heavy sign, Bellamy pulled out his phone and dialed Echo’s number.

 

* * *

 

 

_40 minutes later…_

Murphy shook his head; this just wasn’t the week he planned. He hadn’t got off work until 4am and only got to sleep around 5am, he’d gotten up less then two hours later at 7am so he could leave by 7:30am. Murphy needed his sleep; he wasn’t exactly the nicest person when he functioned with the recommended amount of sleep, let alone the pitiful two hours he’d gotten last night. To top all of that off, he’d lost his temper the other day and broken his phone, which okay was a pain but it was only today that he’d realized the full extend to which that action affected him. All his contacts and important dates and information had been deleted and while normally he wouldn’t give a fuck, it made what he was trying to do today even harder. Not that it mattered, he hadn’t made much headway and Murphy knew without a doubt that it was going to get worse, much worse, before it got better.

 

 

* * *

 

By 2pm, Bellamy had spent almost three and a half hours in the study center and while he now felt like the morning wasn’t a waste, he also felt like his brain was falling out of his head. University students were dumb. All morning they’d come to the center for help and while he was no longer someone who was convinced that asking for help was a bad thing, the questions he’d been asked all morning were an extreme variety of dumb. The study center was there to help students better their understanding of their classes and provide students with the necessary academic skills to write essays and complete assessment tasks, this morning consisted of stereotypical jock-like guys who thought that Bellamy was there to write their assessments for them. They were under the impression that their professors had sent them here to ensure their work was done, just not by them. One such individual had almost punched Bellamy when he’d suggested he focus more on his academic standing then his standing amongst his frat brothers.

 

While Bellamy was more then happy to leave, he was a little concerned about the Roman History class he was TA-ing this semester. The Professor was good and the students listened, but he just didn’t have the passion Bellamy did. He always left the classes feeling like the students had only received the bare minimum of information they needed to pass the class. Bellamy could think of so much information, facts and anecdotes that the students were missing out on. So when the lesson was as a disappointing as expected, coupled with the disappointing shift at the study center and the disappointing course of action Bellamy took this morning. Bellamy was more then ready for bed.

 

* * *

 

 

The week didn’t get any better from there. Thursday nights gathering was very tense and while Jasper and Octavia conspired in the corner about Murphy. He was angrier then usual and spend the night attempting to provoke anyone he could into a fight. He’d succeeded with Octavia later in the night and while Bellamy knew Octavia could take care of herself (she’d made that abundantly clear the year after she’d moved out of the house and into the dorms) Murphy seemed out for blood and extremely vicious. The night had ended when Murphy stormed out of the room and into his own, after Bellamy had stepped between them and pushed Murphy hard enough for him to get the warning. Bellamy had expected a fight, but Murphy’s phone had dinged and he’d stormed off without even throwing an insult at Octavia _or_ Bellamy.

 

This course of action had set Jasper off on a tangent about drug dealers and criminal activity.

“I’m just saying, anyone else get messages and walk off like that?”

 

“Definite drug activity”

 

Monty shook his head, “You two are ridiculous, just because Murphy walked away from a fight doesn’t mean a thing”

 

“Have you ever seen that happen before Monty? Especially with Bellamy! The two of them are always seconds away from coming to blows, its how they communicate”

 

“Jasper, Shut up! First of all, his two rooms away he could hear what you’re saying and second; whatever is going on with Murphy, is his business”

 

Miller’s head turned so fast, it almost span right off his neck. The look he gave me, letting me know I was caught. I couldn’t exactly hide what I’d done, when I worked with Miller at the coffee shop. Although he started two hours after me, a majority of our shift was spent together. It’s how we’d met to begin with, so the fact I wasn’t there and yet was alive when he got home that night let him know that something was up. This resulted in an interrogation that could break the toughest CIA agent. Bellamy refused to admit that all it took was a look from Miller, for him to receive the information from Bellamy he wanted. Thankfully Miller turned his head slightly to indicate he wouldn’t share Bellamy’s secretes but that they would need to eventually discuss Bellamy’s passive aggressive need to be right but also ensure the safety of his friends.

 

“Alright, alright, I’ll admit I probably am wrong and got carried away with the whole drug dealer thing, but you have to admit that there is something off about the guy – and I know I encouraged you to invite him to these gatherings but seriously Bell, something’s up”

 

“Yer, I know Octavia”  


Octavia’s eyes widened at my admission, she almost looked ready to gloat that she was right but I must have ingrained her with some sense as she held in what she wanted to say. There was an unspoken agreement to let the conversation slide and by the time the pizza had arrived, Jasper was more then drunk on Monty’s moonshine, blabbing to himself about the mountain and Octavia was talking to Monty about some new club Bellamy had never heard of. Miller and Bellamy were the only ones sitting on the couch and while he attempted to ignore the eye’s burning holes in the side of his head, he worried that Murphy hadn’t come out of his room. While he was violent and angry, he wasn’t one to miss out on food and alcohol. Especially food and alcohol he didn’t pay for.

 

“Just go ask him to join us”

 

Rolling my eyes before placing them on Miller’s face, we both knew that Murphy wouldn’t exactly be interested in listening to me right now. But I could already sense I was going to lose this argument. Despite the severe lack of communication between Miller and I, (and Miller and everyone else), he had a way of making people do what he wanted. So with a heavy sign I moved towards Murphy’s door, there would be no apology. However, I’m sure the pizza smell and the beer bottle I was presenting to him would be enough to have Murphy leave his room and return to the living room, to continue his abuse towards the others.

 

“Murphy, open up! And get out here!”

 

“Fuck off”

 

“Come Murphy, don’t be a dick. The pizzas getting cold!”

 

“And the alcohols getting warm” Thank you Jasper very helpful, as I turned to scowl at the interruption, Jasper’s goofy grin offset me. He was obviously completely off his head, his eyes were glazed and the fact he was encouraging Murphy to join us again should have been the first indicator. 

 

It appeared though that Bellamy’s effort was wasted, Murphy’s door wasn’t opening anytime soon.

 

“Great, guys. Look, I get he isn’t the easiest guy to get along with but he is our friend. We invited him to be apart of our gatherings and just because his slightly distant or not what you wanted your coming up with any reason to reject him and get rid of him”

 

Octavia looked ready to fight the statement,

“Come on O, you know what that’s like”

 

“Yer I guess, but Bell there’s seriously something shifty about him”

Her comment lacked the fire it would if she still whole heartily believed in what she saying. Octavia was breaking down; she had a soft spot she didn’t like to show. I’m glad I could change her mind, even if mine wasn’t convinced.

 

“Yer Bell!”

 

Rolling my eyes at Jaspers moving two word statement, but I knew that I wasn’t one talk. I had literally followed Murphy around for hours for completely unfounded reasons and now I was overcompensating for those actions.

 

Murphy’s door slammed open.

 

The look he shot us was severe and I thought for sure we were fucked, he’d heard everything we had said. But the initially look was gone and Murphy’s focus was elsewhere. His eye’s running over the hall table near the front door, he practically dived for his keys.

 

“Murphy, you-“  


He was gone, before O could even finish the sentence.

 

“Don’t Jasper”

 

Jasper’s eyes widened but thankfully his mouth shut before another thoughtless comment could be released. Bellamy could only hope that his fast exit was caused by the text message and not the conversation being held in the living room. Because Bellamy didn’t think Murphy would respond well to the theory, not that he responded well to everyday conversation either. So it might be hopeless.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I already had this one written so I thought what's the point of making everyone wait. So here it is, let me know what you think. Also Clarke is finally introduced! So thats a plus!

The club was dingy, dark, depressing and completely reminiscent of Murphy’s adolescent years. That fact alone was almost enough to have him turn around and walk out, but he had a promise to keep. Despite the fact he worked as a bartender, Murphy was quite pleased to say that it was a very relaxed atmosphere, the bar filled with pool tables and dart broads. The clientele much more subdued then the rowdy crowd currently pushing him from side to side, with their drunken dance movements. Murphy didn’t have much in the way of life skills; he’d spend most of his life and formative years in bars and clubs, much like the one he was currently entering. While at the time, the overly fluorescent lightening that flicked and moved with the intense pounding of the music had seemed like an ambiance Murphy wished to surround himself with. Seeing it now, made him realize how much he truly despised it (even then).

 

Murphy’s entire life had originally resolved around himself and he’d focused entirely on protecting himself and surviving. Caring about just himself, that had been easy. He’d had to be that way after the childhood he’d been forced to endure, he’d learnt the hard way that no one was looking out for Murphy, but Murphy. It was Murphy’s childhood that had resulted in the extreme attitude ‘problems’ (not Murphy’s words) that lead to the nights in the depressing and crowded nightclubs. For a time in Murphy’s life the loud crowds, louder music coupled with the copious amounts of alcohol had been a great escape. Murphy could understand why someone who’d used this particular escape before, would use it again. But you can’t run from all your problems, forever and Murphy cared too much about her, to let fall down this hole again. (Once again, so much easier when he’d only cared about himself and surviving).

 

If Murphy was 19 again and had actually come with her like when they were younger, they would be standing by the bar. Somewhere dark, where they could make degrading comments about the people around them but close enough to the bar and consequently the alcohol they craved. So Murphy squinted his eyes while moving towards the bar, it was dark but the lighting above the bar should have reflected off her blonde hair. However, as Murphy moved closer to the bar, his eyes running quickly across the bar, he couldn’t find her and Murphy shuttered at the thought that she had already left. Because as much as the club reminded Murphy of their days together, the fact she wasn’t where he expected her, reminded him of how their nights normally ended. While Murphy would often leave with a girl too drunk for it to be entirely respectable of him, she liked to leave with a guy who was entirely too rough for someone as gentle as her.

 

Murphy only had the courage to ask her once why she chose guys like that; the answer had made Murphy sick. He couldn’t judge though, his lifestyle and sex-life wasn’t exactly kosher back then. Unfortunately, knowing what he knew and not seeing her made him a little sick. He really didn’t want to have to pick her up tomorrow morning after she spent the night with some guy and was left wrecked and was bruised physically and emotionally. She sounded bad enough when she’d called him 20 mins ago, he’d hauled ass to get to the club as quick as possible and paid the bouncer $50 to get in faster.  


Grabbing the bartender’s attention, Murphy flicked through his phone looking for a picture before remembering that he’d lost everything when he broke his phone earlier in the week.

 

“Hey, I’m looking for a blonde”

 

The look the guy gave Murphy almost gave him chills, it was pure scum and the raised eyebrow let Murphy know exactly where the guy’s mind had gone. Six years ago, this guy would have been Murphy’s closest friend.

 

“I know exactly what you need man”

 

“I’m actually looking for a particular girl, blonde, blue eyes, 5’ 5’’, petite, can drink like fish”

 

The last comment made the bartender laugh, and the flicker of recognition in his eyes was both satisfying and disappointing; she must have stood at the bar for quite a while.

 

“Sorry man, you just missed her. She went out the back with some guy, you her boyfriend or something”

 

“Or something”

 

Fuck.

Murphy moved quickly to the back door the bartender had pointed out, pushing the door open. Murphy was assaulted with a stench so powerful it was a miracle he wasn’t throwing up lunch, ah yet another thing he hated about these kinds of clubs; the urine soaked alleyways that surrounded them. Looking around quickly with his eyes assessing his surroundings, Murphy’s breath came faster.

 

Further in the distance, Murphy could just make out a tall guy. His arm was wrapped around a petite women, it almost looked as if he was the only thing holding her up. Yep, that was worrying. Running to catch up to them, seeing the blonde hair that fell onto the man’s arm, confirmed his suspicions.

 

“Clarke!”

 

* * *

 

 “You didn’t have to come”

The childish sentence and response almost killed me.

 

“You begged me to come”

 

“I didn’t’ mean it”

The upturned lips and over exaggerated pout, grated on Murphy’s nerves. Huffing a huge sign and hoping that they didn’t hit any red lights.

 

“Clarke, we’re going to have to eventually talk about everything’s that’s going on”  
  
“Your one to talk, you never wanna talk – about anything, your just a dick”

 

Clarke was biting her bottom lip and it was a nervous tick she’d never quite managed to lose, Murphy preferred to clench his jaw. A tick he was putting to use right now, he wasn’t going to get anywhere with her right now. So instead he drove in silence, pulling over when Clarke sat up straighter recognizing the tell tale sign that puke was imminent.

 

As Murphy held Clarke’s hair off her face, while they stood on the side of the road. Murphy honestly couldn’t comprehend how out of the two of them, he was the one dealing with life better right now. He couldn’t blame her, but she needed to be willing to fix it too. Considering what his roommates already thought of him, bringing home a drunk, barely conscious female, might come off a little wrong. But he doubted Clarke’s roommate would actually let him through the front door, now that’s someone Murphy wouldn’t willingly mess with.

 

However, as Murphy pulled a barely conscious Clarke from his car and struggled with opening the front door he began to second-guess his decision, he could hear the others in the living room. His own abrupt departure obviously hadn’t affected the standing Thursday night gathering, which normally he wouldn’t give a fuck about. But the petite blonde hanging off his arm and blabbering about tequila and tea might disrupt the gathering.

 

* * *

 

Bellamy had managed to get the group settled down and while Jasper was drunkenly making horrible plans about how to apologize to Murphy without actually apologizing to Murphy, most involved and alcohol and drugs (the second one he’d vetoed on account of the unconfirmed theory that Murphy was a drug dealer). The rest of the group had returned to their previous activities and while Miller made lingering eyes at Monty, that he hoped no one noticed. Octavia and Monty were engaged in a Mario Cart battle, which Bellamy had no doubt would end with Monty winning Octavia vowing revenge.

 

It was during this time that Bellamy heard the door rattle and while it was safe to assume it was Murphy, Bellamy didn’t think he’d be returning tonight. As the door continued to rattle, gaining the others attention, Bellamy moved to the door. Maybe Murphy was gone out and gotten drunk and was struggling with his key, although he’d only been gone for about an hour. Although if anyone could to it, Murphy could; Bellamy was extremely impressed with the way Murphy could down alcohol and still appear mostly sober.

 

Pulling the door open, it was shock to find not only Murphy but also a young blonde. She was crowded in Murphy’s arms and appeared to be unable to stand without his support, he moved forward throwing his keys onto the hall table. Glaring at he way into the apartment.

“Murphy, what –“  


“Just move”

 

And suddenly every fear and passing thought I’d had about Murphy was flashing in my mind, did we even know this guy. This girl was young and completely out of it, the way Murphy was half carrying, half dragging her down the hallway was very telling. Looking over her figure Bellamy couldn’t find her holding a purse or a phone, instinctively all of Bellamy’s mother-hen tendencies were working full force.

 

“Murphy put her down. She’s obviously drunk, you can’t just bring her back here like that”

 

The conversation in the living room stopped and all eyes turned towards us, Murphy froze and turned to face me. Any look I’d ever seen on Murphy’s face before was nothing like the glare I received now.

 

“Despite the fact that the lot of you think I’m a cold-hearted drug dealer and now apparently a guy who has sex with unwilling participates or girls too drunk to say no. I’m actually helping out a friend, so if you’d stand down from your ten foot high pedestal and move out of the way. I’d like to put her into bed, so she can begin to sleep off the hangover”

 

No one spoke and for once Bellamy wished he were able to say something, anything to help improve this situation. But before he could say anymore the blonde was moving and voice cut through the whole situation.

 

“John, I don’t feel well”

“Yer were going, I’m just going to find you something else to wear tonight”

 

Turning away from us, Murphy began to move towards his own room holding the girl upright next to him. Even with the blonde weighing on his arms, he still managed to slam his door. Tomorrow morning would be interesting to say the least. Turning to face the others, I figured it was time to pack this gathering up.

“Are you guys staying?”

 

“Like hell, I’m leaving after that shit storm. I wanna see where this goes tomorrow, I might even get up early to ensure I don’t miss anything”

Jasper nodded his head fast in agreement with O’s statement, while Monty simply shook his head but didn’t make any move to leave either. As everyone moved off to find a place to sleep, (besides Jasper who simply stopped moving and fell asleep) I headed upstairs towards my bedroom.

 

Removing my shirt and simply falling into bed, I wondered about the blonde Murphy had brought into his room. In the entire time we’d all known Murphy he had never once mentioned any friends, at first we’d all been under the allusion that he was new to town and didn’t know anyone. Hence the lack of friends, however after getting to know the guy, we’d all just figured no one was willing to actually associate with him. Murphy just wasn’t the kind of guy to make friends, let alone keep them. But the split second I’d seen of him looking at the blonde, made it clear there was a very strong connection between the two. At least on Murphy’s end, he cared for her. As far as Bellamy knew she was the only one, Murphy cared about. I wonder what she’s like, probably a female version of Murphy himself.

 

* * *

  

Clarke’s head was fuzzy and she was confused about where she was, John was next to her. She remembered him pulling her away from the guy she’d been leaving with, thankful for his interruption even though she attempted to play it off and ask him to leave. His hand was moving down her back, unzipping the skintight dress she’d been wearing, thank god! She’d never admit to anyone but she didn’t enjoy the style of dress, but she had always felt it was needed when going to nightclubs. Besides, it had accomplished the aim of the night, finding someone to make her forget, at least until the pitiful orgasm the guy had given her in the alleyway had only served to remind her of the world and depression she’d escaped. So while Clarke wanted to hate John for forcing her to come back to his place and leave … Penn, was that his name? She was actually thankful, so the soft movement of his hands removing her clothes and putting her in what she assumed was one of his t-shirts, was calming. If Clarke’s head wasn't so fuzzing and the pounding of the on-coming headache which was already beginning to surface pulling at her head, she would have laughed, John was currently placing blankets on the floor and it was a sense of nobility that Clarke just wasn’t prepared for.

“John, seriously”

 

She mustn’t have been as coherent as she believed she was because John jumped fearing something was happening, grabbing a nearby bucket and pulling her up and towards him. Pushing him away and literally dropping to the bed again, she pulled him with her. Unable to express the notion, that his previous actions were ridiculous based on their … familiarity… with each other, she hoped he understood. She’d hate for him to sleep on the hard floor when there was really no need, with that passing thought Clarke fell blissfully into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I got a lot going on the moment. But its finally here so enjoy!

Bellamy woke to the smell of food, which was disorientating to say the least. Bellamy was considered the house chef, within their little groups of friends. No one bar him could really cook, well Jasper could. But everything he made would be _tainted,_ Jasper liked to cook with his own homegrown ingredients. Aside from him, Monty was the closest and even that was risky, so Bellamy was a little concerned. But it didn’t smell like anything was burning and the house wasn’t on fire; that ruled out Octavia at least. Bellamy wasn’t the best in the mornings, but he was used to early starts and despite the fact Fridays were his sleep in days (9am was considered a sleep in for him). He was too curious to stay in bed, so he stumbled down the stairs and ducked his head around the kitchen wall to see who was cooking. It smelled great.

 

Murphy?!

This was more shocking then anticipated, out of everyone he was the last one Bellamy expected. Bellamy wasn’t sure Murphy knew food could be produced in your own home; everything he ate was purchased or found in the house fridge. But there he was, clear as day. Sitting on the counter was a pile of pancakes and a selection of toppings and cut fruits. He was currently making a plate of pancakes and fruits with a maple syrup topping. What the hell was going on? Everything since last night was putting Murphy in a new light; did we know anything about him? Murphy looked up as Bellamy entered the kitchen, rolling his eyes at Bellamy’s expression. Murphy continued to move his way around the kitchen, filling a glass with water and placing it on the pre-made tray.

 

“What do you want Blake?”

 

“What are you doing Murphy?”

 

“Making breakfast, I had assumed you would have recognized the actions”

His words were dripping with sarcasm and his lip curled up in a snarl that threatened to break his face.

 

“No shit Murphy, I can see that. But as far as I knew you didn’t even know we had a kitchen”

 

“Don’t be stupid Blake, you saw me in here on Monday. Remember, I broke my phone”

 

“Don’t change the subject, who was that girl last night?”

 

“Why? You jealous I got more game then you”

 

By this point he’d lifted the tray and was moving towards his room. Bellamy was almost shocked to notice that Murphy’s face was filled with trepidation and he seemed to be pulling himself together before turning back to face Bellamy.  
“Look, I’ll explain it to you simply. Clarke’s an old friend; I’ve known her since I was 19. We used to get into trouble together, until we decided it was time to grow up. Turns out, it’s not as simple as we’d like it to be”

 

“Is Clarke going to be bringing this trouble here?”

“No”

 

“Then were all good, but at some point I’m going to need a better explanation”

 

Murphy looked as if he wanted to say more, but was unable to. Nodding his head at Bellamy, he turned towards his room. Without looking back he spoke once more.

“She’s my responsibility, if nothing else you should understand that. I got her into trouble, I made her like this and it’s up to me to help her.

Shutting the door behind him, Bellamy was a little shocked. It was one thing to witness Murphy’s care, another to hear it so plainly from his own mouth.

 

Octavia could sense the tense mood in the kitchen before she’d even fully woken up, walking up to Bellamy she knocked into his side to gain his attention. The worried set of his mouth was a clear indicator of his stress. Octavia assumed it had something to do with the blonde Murphy had bought home last night, but wisely chose to not say anything. Bellamy wouldn’t share anyway; whatever he and Murphy were talking about would stay private. So instead Octavia chose to focus on something else, like the rumbling in her stomach.

 

“Ohhh pancakes, I knew I missed _something_ about living with you”

Turning to look at Octavia, Bellamy couldn’t help the twist of his lips at Octavia’s dig while his sister moved towards the pile of pancakes. Murphy had left them behind for everyone else. Watching Octavia spread honey and fruit over the pancake and then roll it, all within her hands and begin to stuff the food in her mouth.

 

“You know… Murphy made that”

The shock on her face was extreme and she froze in her attempt to swallow as much as physically possible.

“But .. it ta-ste grood”

At this point the others had began to file into the kitchen and while Jasper laid his head on the bench, his eyes rolling into the back of his head before finally falling back to sleep, the others were eyeing Octavia with her mouth open and eyes filled with intense shock.

Shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders she swallowed the food and begun to roll another pancake with fruit.

“Worth it”

Miller turned towards a drawer, pulling out enough plates for everyone, before beginning to pile food onto his own plate. Everyone else soon begun to follow suit; stacking food onto their own plates.

 

* * *

  

Murphy shook Clarke’s shoulder and pulled her upwards to sit against the headboard. The look she gave in return was fierce and angry but when Murphy placed the tray on her lap, the smile she gave him pulled at her entire face.

 

“Hmm my favorite, you remembered?”

 

“Yer, it’s been 8 months I don’t forget things that quickly”

Murphy’s voice was gruff and angry. Clarke had pretty much cut him out, banished him from her life and moved on a couple of months after she started dating Finn.

 

“How is pretty boy by the way? What would he think about the guy dragging you down the alley last night? Pretty clear that the two of you weren’t simply leaving to have a pleasant conversation out back”

Murphy had punctuated his words with a rude screw up of his face, indicating his clear disgust with the girl in front of him. Despite the months spent without seeing each other, Clarke still knew it was only a defense tactic to the way she had treated him months earlier.

 

“Wouldn’t care, we broke up”

 

“Ahh that got anything to do with last night”

 

The pucker between her eyes deepened and the frown pulled at her lips, removing the smile she’d originally graced him with.

 

“You know it doesn’t”

 

Murphy shook his head; he really was a dick, but he’d felt that Clarke deserved it after what she did to him.

“yer”

 

They were both silent as she ate, watching as Clarke took a liberal sip of the water and following the action with a flick of her head backwards. Indicating she’d just taken medication, she’d need it for her hangover. Clarke’s eyes wandered over the room refusing to make contact with Murphy’s constant stare, looking towards the chair he sat in, Clarke chose to focus on his chest. So as to appear Clarke was looking at him, without actually having to look at Murphy.

 

“You going to hate me forever?”

 

The chuckle caught in Murphy’s throat before it could fully descend into the air between them. Clarke’s blue eyes had widened and the tears had welled within them, they looked twice as large on her petite face. Murphy shook his head as he watched Clarke blink constantly to stop them before they descended down her face. He watched the girl in front of him, noticing the way the makeup had caked around her eyes, half missing on her right side from when she’d rubbed her face against his pillow during the night. He’d watched her then too, annoyed that her makeup had marred his pillows. It was an emotion he was used to and honestly Clarke had always annoyed him in some way but when she’d walked back into his life the annoyance he felt had more then doubled what it had been in the last few months. Annoyed at himself for caring about her, annoyed that she had called him and shared her problems with him when she’d been the one to cut him out, annoyed that he thought he’d made a life for himself, (with friends) – only to realize it wasn’t as perfect as he once thought. But beyond all of that he was annoyed that she was holding back her tears, it was a typical Clarke move. Refusing to feel _anything_ in front of those she didn’t trust, which stung at a part of Murphy’s heart he didn’t know he had. Pulling at the bed covers, Murphy slipped beneath them, laying down. Leaving Clarke with the next move, Murphy watched her slide down the bed turning into his arms.

“I never hated you in the first place”

 

“I am so sorry John, I shouldn’t have done that to you. It’s just that –“

 

“It’s fine, it was Finn”

Murphy was quick to interrupt her explanation, he didn’t want to hear about her reasons for cutting him out. Fearing that if she thought about the reasons too much, she’d leave him again even if Finn weren’t there to nudge her into the decision. It was easier to blame the stupid pretty boy and move on, Murphy thought.

 

“No John, I want you to understand. It wasn’t Finn. I mean it was Finn but it was more then that. Everything in my life had changed and it finally felt like I was in the right place, the place I needed to be to forget about the past and then I’d look at you and it would just remind me that you knew. You knew everything, and that’s what scared me. Yer Finn thought you were a bad guy, but that’s not why I did it. I know you’re not a bad guy, despite how you act. I just let Finn and you think that was the reason. It was easier then explaining, that you knew me and that scared me”

 

Murphy stayed silent, tightening his arms around Clarke, she was too little. It was obvious she’d lost weight. He’d been cataloging the changes he’d seen in Clarke since last night, not that she didn’t look good, and Clarke always managed to look beautiful. Murphy was silent about her confession, Clarke was always the wordy one between the two of them, Murphy preferred his silence unless drunk or causing trouble. She would continue when she was ready, or the silence would get to her. Murphy used to joke that one-day she’d talk too much and faint from a lack of air. It was something that originally annoyed him (still kind of did, if he was honest), when they met. To the world she provided them with this fake personality, bright, cheery and happy. Took Murphy a long time to realize it was a façade and beneath the exterior was a person Murphy knew all to well. He was that person; he just covered it with snarky attitude and anger.

 

“But John, I was wrong and you know how hard that is for me to admit. I shouldn’t have –“

 

Murphy’s snarl and lip curl, would have had any other person pushing away from him. But Clarke simply looked up and noticed that Murphy was rolling his eyes, it was as close to an acceptance to her explanation as she would ever get. Murphy wasn’t great with feelings, and talking about them wouldn’t be a great idea. But Clarke wanted him to understand; he couldn’t explain that he did in fact understand. He knew what she meant, it was hard for Murphy to look at Clarke sometimes too; it was hard to look at anyone who knew, it was why Murphy had left his hometown, to escape those knowing eyes. Having anyone around who knew could be hard. But it was also what made it so easy for Murphy to forget the past 8 months and drop everything to help her.

 

* * *

 

 

“When’s Murphy coming out?”

Octavia’s eyes moved from Bellamy to Miller in quick secession, waiting for an answer. When it was clear neither of the men would be able to answer her, she moved her eyes to the last two boys in the kitchen, Monty shaking his head quickly unable to answer, while Jasper simply lifted his head to place on his left hand and look at Octavia.

 

“Are you all honestly telling me that you are not interested in whatever the hell that was last night?!”

“Seriously?! None of you care?”

 

Miller nearly chocked on his own tongue, when Jasper attempted to answer.

 

“Well – if I –“

Jasper’s head falling to the bench again unable to give his answer, Octavia stood huffing at the lack of care from the group of men around her.

 

Bellamy stood against the wall to the entrance to the kitchen, refusing to take part in the conversation. Bellamy was unsure if the information Murphy had provided was to be shared with the rest of the group, or if Murphy had intended for only Bellamy to know. Either way he knew that something would happen when Murphy and Clarke left his room, he was just unsure what. If the girl was anything like Murphy (which Bellamy assumed was safe to say yes), then trouble was brewing.

 

Hearing Murphy’s door, the group turned towards the sound. Murphy entered the kitchen first, one hand out in front of him holding the tray from earlier, the other behind him holding the hand of the blonde from last night. Pulling her along behind him, Murphy had turned his head to face her. Bellamy couldn’t quite believe the tender way in which Murphy treated her, talking to her softly Bellamy was just able to make out the words he spoke as he was closest to the couple.

“You’ll be fine.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here's a new chapter. Let me know what you think. I think starting next chapter I'm going to start revealing a bit more about Clarke and Murphy's past. The group dynamic will begin to change then too.

 

**Chapter 5**

Bellamy watched the way Clarke moved, considering she had _walked_ into their house last night extremely drunk and unable to hold herself up, and the fact Murphy had literally just been reassuring her. It was a shock to the system, when upon noticing the people in the kitchen; she pulled herself up and seemed to exclude an intense form of confidence. Bellamy ran his eyes down her figure she was blonde, extremely pretty and petite. Murphy wasn’t tall, at least in comparison to Bellamy and Miller’s stature, (although Bellamy couldn’t quite be considered tall when compared to Miller either). But as Murphy stood next to the girl beside him, he seemed overly tall. Having to turn and lean down to even hear the words she was whispering to him, she was covered in what Bellamy knew was one of Murphy’s shirts and nothing else, the hem falling well beyond her mid-thigh. Her legs slightly bronzed and seemly way longer then was physically possible for someone of such a limited height. As Bellamy continued to assess the girl before him, Murphy had let go of her hand and was moving to put away all the dirty dishes from the tray the two of them had used. Clarke spent this time looking around the room, when her eyes connected with Bellamy’s she graced him with a smile that pulled at the corners of lips, realizing she would quickly notice the way he was watching her. Bellamy attempted to think of something to say, grasping at anything but drawing a complete blank. The air in the room grew tense and Bellamy made the mistake of looking away from the petite girl before him, instead making eye contact with Murphy himself. The glare he was leveled with surpassed anything Bellamy had ever received before in his life, Murphy’s eyes moved between Bellamy and Clarke the warning was clear in the dark recesses of Murphy’s eyes. Bellamy snorted at the silent accusation, as if he wanted Murphy’s girlfriend. Unfortunately the sound had an unwanted side effect, drawing everyone else’s attention too.

 

By this point, Octavia’s curiosity was beyond boiling point; her eyes darting around to all the occupants within the kitchen. When Bellamy looked at Octavia he could sense the coming explosion, there would be no way to stop the questions that began to spew forth from Octavia’s mouth.

 

“So… who are you?”

The question was directed at Clarke but the way her eyes flicked around the room it was clear she was willing to accept an answer from anyone, if they provided valid information before finally settling on Clarke again. Octavia was almost bouncing off her feet from the apparent excitement of the obvious secrete she wasn’t apart of, the question resulted in Murphy’s attention moving to Octavia. Bellamy instinctually turned protective, preparing for the argument that was sure to ensue. However, he was extremely surprised when instead of the filthy, cruel comments gushing forth from Murphy’s mouth, the group was met with a small chuckle and Clarke pushing Murphy away from her line of sight and stepping up to the bench to face Octavia head on. Holding her hand in front of her for Octavia to shake.

 

“Clarke”

 

Octavia seemed to eye the hand in front of her before moving to eye the girl as a whole, judging the girl quickly and finding she liked what she saw. Held her own hand out in response.

 

“Octavia”

 

The rest of the group followed suit, and introduced themselves, (aside from Jasper who although he had managed to face the group, was still struggling to speak. Monty and Miller sharing a laugh at him, before Monty turned quietly introducing Jasper, as he was unable to himself).

“How do you know Murphy?”

 

Clarke cocked her head to the side, raising an eyebrow at the girl before her.

“Should I expect to be encountered with constant questioning every time I come to your house?”

 

“Not my house, going to answer the question?”  


“Which one? That one, or the one before?”  


Octavia smirked at the blonde.

“I think I could like you”

 

“Feeling could potential be mutual”

Clarke seemed to carefully consider Octavia’s question, and it left Bellamy a little confused it seemed like a pretty simple question to answer. Yet Clarke looked as if she was considering how to answer extremely carefully, turning to Murphy and eyeing him and then Octavia before finally supplying an answer. Although Bellamy was sure it wasn’t the ‘juicy’ information Octavia was expecting.

“I met him when I was 17”

 

“So your close?” Octavia tilled her head to the side, eyeing the girl before her.

 

“Is that a subtle way of asking if we slept together?”

 

Octavia seemed stunned by the question, but also intrigued although Clarke moved forward with her answer before Octavia had the chance to direct a question that was more in line with Clarke’s.

“Yer, were pretty close”

 

Clarke turned then giving Murphy a secrete smile that had Bellamy himself wandering about the answer of Clark’s own question. Eventually the questions were becoming increasingly personal, Clarke becoming less comfortable, sensing the change in the atmosphere, Octavia moved forward with her questioning, the questions becoming more extreme with each passing moment. Bellamy nearly reached forward and smacked his sister, for the obvious tension she was creating and yet her ability to judge the situation’s growing intensity was enormously lacking. Questioning Clarke about everything from her childhood to current life, it was clear there were times when the questions made Clarke uncomfortable. But she attempted to answer all the questions at best she could but eventually Octavia settled on a question that seemed to cross the line.

“So if you’ve known Murphy so long, then how come we’ve only just met you?”

 

Murphy turned then, he watched Clarke’s face fall slightly before sneering at Octavia and facing her head on, his face clearly filled with fury. Well, Murphy’s patience lasted longer then anticipated.

 

“How the hell is that your business?” Murphy stormed towards Octavia, facing her head on. “It’s not as if you’re a major part of my life, what I do or who I see doesn’t concern you!”

 

Murphy loomed over her. Not one to back down Octavia returned the dark look with the patent Blake sneer. Bellamy knew it was time to step in before this turned into an all out bar style brawl, which wouldn’t be unexpected of Murphy (or Octavia for that matter). By this point Bellamy had moved off the wall with the intent to intercept the argument forming in the middle of the kitchen. However, he had moved less then four steps when Clarke had made her way around the bench and was pulling Murphy back, forcing him to lean back against the bench. Before placing herself in front of his body, as if shielding him from Octavia. But the final stance she displayed was the picture of ease, forcing Murphy to lean against the bench and leaning her own body back against his, effectively holding him in place. While the two of them still traded spoken swipes at the other, Clarke acted as a shield between their physical blows. Bellamy stood waiting for Murphy to forcefully push the petite girl before him away and step towards Octavia, but the small girl seemed to hold him perfectly in place even as the constant movement of his hands denoted the anger Murphy still held. Octavia froze in her insults towards Murphy when she noticed Clarke chuckling at their expense; Bellamy had to admit that it was true that not many people were willing to laugh at a guy like Murphy. Everyone within the room tensed at the silence that followed Clark’s laugh, Bellamy realized that while the others had been involved in their own conversation a majority of their attention had stayed on the blonde and her conversation companions.

“I see you’re still just as great as ever when it comes to causing havoc and grating on anyone in the close vicinity’s nerves”

The comment sounded like an insult but the smile on Clarke’s face looked almost adoring, as if these qualities and actions were almost loveable. Clarke was quick to dismiss Murphy, in a way that would have had anyone else walking away with a black eye and a few missing teeth. Clarke turned back to Octavia and eyed the rest of the group, who had begun to gravitate towards the three next to the kitchen bench. All of them eager to see what Clarke would do or say next, even Bellamy couldn’t stop himself from moving forward and leaning down against the bench to better hear Clarke.

 

“We had a bit of an argument…”

 

“That lasted 7 months?”

Bellamy resisted the urge to once again hit his little sister, but his sister really didn’t know when to shut up. This was it; this would be when Clarke had enough. There was a reason Octavia had such a limited amount of friends, it wasn’t that she struggled to make them, like Bellamy. It was just that she could be overly blunt and verging on rude (that was a lot like Bellamy), she’d managed to make a select group of friends and bring them close but often people found her too much and would slowly cut away from her. So it came as a surprise when people accepted Octavia’s personality and attitude, although it looked like it wouldn’t be a problem for Clarke, who smirked at Octavia’s abrupt form of questioning. Honestly he should have expected this since she appeared to manage so well with Murphy and his … _prickly_ personality.

 

“8 months actually”

 

The response made Octavia smirk before Clarke and Octavia shared a small laugh at each other’s expense, the conversation continued to flow between the two and it became clearer that even if Murphy wasn’t the one bringing Clarke around, Octavia might just be willing to.

 

“Wanna go watch some Netflix? Its’ my brother’s account so it’s probably filled with some boring documentaries and shit about history” Bellamy could see the eye roll and shit-eating grin, from a mile away, “but I’m sure we could find something to binge”

 

“I’m in. Have you watched any _Brooklyn Nine Nine?_ ”

The two of them were making their way out of the kitchen and into the living room, completely ignoring the rest of us. Monty seemed nervous and yet intrigued enough that he shifted from foot to foot before walking towards the living room. Jasper mumbling about how he’d join them, but unable to lift his head from the bench it was clear he wasn’t going anywhere. Looking at Miller, Bellamy shrugged the two of the heading towards the other room. Once they’d reached the room, Bellamy noticed the way the two girls were seated close together whispering back and forth and pointing at the screen before them. The slam from the kitchen came as a bit of shock, Murphy storming into the room after the loud commotion however made it clear what had occurred. The room watched as he headed towards the couch, lifting Clarke’s legs and placing them on top of his own. Muttering to himself about the unfair way in which Clarke just took over his life, and everyone just accepted her. Clarke kicked him before sharing a laugh with Octavia, everyone else appeared to be waiting for Murphy’s reaction. But instead he huffed and laid his head against the back of the couch, continuing to mutter about the ‘stupid blonde.’ Bellamy pulled his hand up and attempted to cover the smirk forming on his own face. Miller’s gruff laugh permitted the air and Bellamy in turn coughed to cover his own, Murphy finally had enough and leaned over to punch Bellamy’s arm.  

 

-&-

 

They’d been watching Netflix for over three hours and Clarke was enjoying the interactions of the group surrounding her, they’d moved around the room throughout the day and Clarke had watched as Bellamy antagonized Octavia to the point where she’d been left huffing and red in the face until he’d had to leave for work. Jasper had stumbled in about an hour after everyone else, dropping onto the floor, he’d slowly begun to become more human and Clarke realized he was a bit of a spitfire. More confident then expected and was filled with a wit that Clarke found she greatly enjoyed, finally she’d spent quite a bit of time discussing chemistry with Monty. It was a class Monty was currently taking and one Clarke had taken at her own university before she’d dropped out of college. They had bonded over their shared lack of knowledge and the intensity to which the subject overtook their lives and Monty marveled at the idea of leaving college behind. He’d stumbled over his words when Clarke admitted that she dropped out of pre-med, seemingly unable to understand how someone could just walk away from a degree. Miller didn’t speak much but Clarke found it had nothing to do with her attendance, was merely just his personality. When Miller had sat down next to her and offered her a drink, Clarke had expected him to leave afterwards but instead he sat down next to her and begun whispering sarcastic comments about the characters of the movie they’ve found. Overall, Clarke had found she’d greatly enjoyed the day, she worried they’d judge her for how they’d first seen her but they seemed to accept her easily enough. Murphy even seemed to enjoy the company of the group, even the way he antagonized them seemed lighter then Clarke was used to. It made Clarke smile to know that even when she’d banished him from her life, he’d managed to find his own place in the world.

 

As the day become closer to mid-afternoon, Clarke begun to worry she was holding them up but she learned aside from Bellamy, that everyone had Friday as their lazy day. Miller not having work, and the others had no classes. Octavia explained it was why the gathering was held on Thursday, she seemed to be subtly hinting about Clarke returning for the following Thursday, it made Clarke smile. When Clarke had looked down and realized that it was almost 3pm, and she did have work to do. Octavia had jumped up to ask for Clarke’s number, which Clarke had handed over quite quickly. Murphy was dropping Clarke at home and she’d almost believed that she’d gotten away without an interrogation (aside from the one she got from Octavia) but Murphy grabbed her arm to stop her from getting out of the car. “We have to talk at some point, I know you’re not okay and you’re great at pretending to be, but I know you.” He was gripping Clarke’s arm, making it clear she couldn’t escape neither him nor the coming issue.  

                                                                                                    

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay here's a new chapter! I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who gave kudos, commented and bookmarked my story. You honestly have no idea how much it means to me!! Thank you! So I really hope your all enjoying this story and let me know what you think :)

Murphy couldn’t help but notice the changes in Clarke’s apartment, it still smelled of paint and the walls were filled with Clarke’s designs. The far wall behind the TV in the living room now displayed a striking image of overgrown trees and shrubbery, in the far background Murphy could just make out the Lincoln Memorial. Although in the image it was tilted and clearly old, surrounded by overgrowth and the more Murphy looked the more he found. Images of people in neutral clothing littered the trees, looking down at the ground below them. It was truly remarkable, prominent and at times somewhat unnerving. It obviously took a long time based on the amount of detail within every section of the image. Murphy eyed it carefully it wasn’t Clarke’s work he decided, Clarke enjoyed colours, swirling through her paintings until they almost jumped off the canvas. Turing to face the rest of the apartment, Murphy continued to eye his surroundings. Noticing the serve lack of photos on the walls, Murphy stopped in front of the far wall near the kitchen, the nail was still hanging from the wall. It was well above Clarke’s reach, but if she’d stretched she would be able to remove the picture but not the nail. Murphy pulled at it, wiggling the nail and tugging gently until it was released from the plaster.

 

Murphy could feel her eyes once she entered the room from the kitchen. “Thanks, I couldn’t reach that”

 

“Lincoln couldn’t either?” Murphy’s smirk pulled at his cheeks, almost threatening to turn into what could almost be considered a smile for Murphy. He couldn’t help thinking of Clarke’s towering, muscle bound roommate being unable to reach the nail at standard height.

 

Clarke’s small smile tugged at Murphy’s heart, “Of course he could John, he left it up so we could put another picture up. We just never got around to it, now there’s just a hole in my wall.”

 

“My mistake Clarke, I should have left the empty nail there where it was a safety hazard, it could have potentially taken out someone’s eyeball!”

 

“My, my Murphy, I didn’t know you cared so much about other’s eyeballs?”

 

“Don’t, just don’t want it to happen and I’m not here to see it. What was up there?“

 

Clarke ignored his question and instead turned, pretending something had caught her attention; Murphy rolled his eyes and pulled on the hair at the side of her face. Clarke smiled at Murphy’s action and once again it tugged at Murphy’s heart, he’d almost been able to convince himself he didn’t care anymore. That he didn’t need Clarke in his life, he’d found a place to live, even managed to make some friends and found a job he was good at. It wasn’t a great life and he didn’t have Clarke in his ear, encouraging him to seek out his best and be a better person but he had people. They didn’t love him, but they didn’t outright hate him either, which honestly was a big achievement for Murphy. But standing here, back in Clarke’s apartment with the smell of paint and Clarke’s smile left Murphy feeling whole. Only just now realizing how inadequate and lacking he was without her, and as cruel as it was to even think. Murphy wanted Clarke to feel the same; he wanted to be more then an old habit, he wanted to know that she needed him like he needed her.

 

“Stop it” Her face was pinched and she was licking her lip, it was how Murphy knew she was preparing for a rant.

“I mean it John, whatever your thinking just ask already”

 

“Would you have called, if what is happening wasn’t happening? And Finn was still around?” Murphy told himself it wouldn’t matter how she answered, if Clarke called, Murphy would be there. Even if the same couldn’t be said for Clarke.

“No”

It shouldn’t hurt, Murphy told himself it didn’t matter. It didn’t.

The sneer and deflecting comment was halfway out his mouth before he could really comprehend it. But Clarke’s hand come up to cover his mouth and pulled her own body into his, although Murphy left his arms down. His one defense against the hurt she’d caused.

 

“I wanted to call a thousand times, beg you to meet me. But I couldn’t because I was scared you wouldn’t come, it’s wrong and selfish but I _knew_ you would with what was happening”

 

Murphy pulled his arms up and around Clarke, gently pulling her towards the couch. Hauling Clarke over and up onto Murphy’s lap, pulling her tight into his arms. The silence was deafening but Murphy understood the need for quiet right not. They could repair their friendship, but right now Clarke needed to talk about what was happening to someone, anyone, and it pained Murphy to admit that he would be happy even if it weren’t him.

 

Murphy wasn’t good with the whole comfort thing; he didn’t grow up with loving parents or caring friends, no one taught him how to be caring. Even when he was free from the hell that was his childhood home, no one cared about Murphy. The small innocent boy inside of him, told him that once he left home and the truth was known, he’d be cared for and loved. However, the truth was despite the copious amount of people who told him they understood and they would be there for him, to help him through. It wasn’t long after the trial that Murphy was once again alone and without anyone caring about him, if his childhood family hadn’t broken him, the foster homes did. No one, in any ‘home’ though taught him what it meant to comfort someone or be comforted. The group therapy chats only increased the amount of time Murphy spent sneering, but even after him and Clarke had become friends they mostly spent their time during the group chats making faces at one another. Comforting people, Murphy knew nothing. But he knew Clarke waiting was best, pushing her to talk only worked to some extend, then you had to wait for Clarke to do the rest.

 

“I don’t know what to do”

Clarke had maneuvered herself into a semi sitting position in Murphy’s lap, angled up so she was facing him.

 

Pulling her close but leaving enough room, so that they could still make eye contact. Murphy waited, she needed time. He’d pushed her enough the past week, now it was up to her.

 

“It’s been 4 and a half years, is that fair?”

Clarke didn’t expect an answer but when her blue eyes met Murphy, they were swelling with tears. Threatening to tumble down her cheeks, she looked so little and young. No one deserved this, but Clarke was soft and breakable, the hard shell was just a cover. Murphy wanted to tell her that he would fix it, that he would make it better, that he would help her breathe again. But he couldn’t make it better, and couldn’t fix it. But Murphy could tell her the truth and promise to be there for her.

 

“No, Clarke it’s not. But I don’t think it would ever feel fair. No matter how long it was.” He pushed her hair back, which only made Clarke look younger. Murphy couldn’t tell her it got easier, he knew it didn’t but they had pulled themselves out of the dump they called their lives. They had started new and maybe that was what they needed to do now. You can’t forget what happened, but you can move forward.

 

He wasn’t brave enough to say the words loud, not even when they were alone so Murphy whispered them in her ear. That he was there, that he cared, that they would get through this together. They sat together for over an hour, Murphy whispering in her ear. Before they both fell silent, Murphy eyed the wall behind the TV with the trees and shrubbery, the people littering the ground and trees, the monument in the background, looking out almost as if the eyes were looking back at the viewer.

“That is honest to God, the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen”

 

The comment had the intended outcome, Clarke snorting into her hand. Stopping the laugh in her throat but not the smile that formed on her face. Attempting to glare at him, but her eyes a lot lighter then they had been before.

“You’re just saying that because it’s Lincoln’s”

 

“Oh, it’s not yours?” The surprise and sneer was clear in Murphy’s facial features and voice. But Clarke knew him well enough to know that it was a façade, an attempt to change the subject and make Clarke laugh. She thrived with the knowledge that Murphy still knew her, that he still cared.

 

“No and you know that. Hence why you said that!”

Murphy smirked at the way she scolded him for his subtle quip about her roommate.

 

“You don’t like it? You have to admit, even if you don’t it’s done well.”

 

Murphy considered her comment and the way she tilted her head while waiting for his answer, her eyes were bright and innocent. Not wanting to offend the hulking brute that was Clarke’s roommate or in this case; Clarke, in her defense of him. Murphy gave the barest hint of a smile, looking Clarke dead in the eye and replied with the most honest answer he could muster.

 

“I’d prefer more colour”

 

The smile that lit her face was almost blinding, yer they weren’t perfect but Murphy missed her and having her back in his life was worth the pain and anguish of the last 8 months. They’d help each other through this. Clarke squirmed then, pulling out of the embrace and turning towards the clock on the wall.

 

“I wasn’t lying, I do actually have to do some work today. But –“ The smile was sneaky and slightly terrifying to someone who knew what it meant, and Murphy did. So he breathed in deep and prepared himself.

“You can come with me and help?”

Murphy nodded with slight apprehension, she was leaving something out.

“Great! Lincoln will be there. I’m sure he would love to see you again”

There it was, that sneaky little bitch. Groaning and slouching into the couch, Murphy regretted this already.

 

-&-

 

Bellamy had spent the morning, completing his shift in the study center. While he’d spent some of his time reading undergrad’s work and attempting to help them without blurting out his thoughts on their stupidity and serve lack of grammar. He’d spent most of the shift thinking about Clarke… and Murphy, but mostly Clarke. She was unexpected to be sure; based on this morning he gathered she was fiery and headstrong. Could stand on her own and the way she could predict what Murphy was thinking and control his outbursts was shocking. In the 7 months they’d known him, Bellamy had assumed the only way to calm the guy down was through force. Usually at Bellamy’s hand, but the way Clarke had held him gently in place and seemed to gloss of his anger until it was gently smothered and gone. That was something else. Bellamy struggled to comprehend how the girl he met this morning could be friends with a guy like Murphy. Despite what he’d seen last night, Clarke seemed like the kind of girl who already had her life all set out for her. Sure of who she was and where she was going, Murphy wasn’t a _huge_ mess by any means but he wasn’t exactly going anywhere either. Murphy always seemed happy with his life, a bartender in a popular bar and he paid his bills and lived his life. Although he wasn’t aiming for anymore, which Bellamy just didn’t understand at all. But even more then that, Bellamy couldn’t understand how Clarke and Murphy mixed. He understood they met when they were younger, but he would have assumed that based on their personalities they would have grown apart, so what held them together?

 

“Bellamy!”

The shout shocked Bellamy from his position next to the file cabinets, Echo was eyeing him carefully, it was clear she had obviously said his name more then once. Bellamy thought hard about what he’d been doing, and if he’d heard Echo. But nothing came to mind and he was forced to eye Echo with a sheepish smile, letting her know that he had no clue what she had been saying.

 

Rolling her eyes, she repeated herself. “I said, what the hell are you thinking about so hard. You’ve been standing there for over 20 minutes.”

 

Shrugging his shoulders and pulling out the top draw, pretending to look for something in the files. “Nothing, just assignments”

 

Echo’s snort was undignified and Bellamy shook his head to face her and plaster the patent Blake smirk on his face to throw her off. A little flirting never hurt anyone, unfortunately Echo and Bellamy had been locked together inside this hell-hole of a job for over two years. She’d also watched him flirt with countless girls and knew his game, furthermore they’d attempted to date for a month last year. Big mistake, their personalities clashed but the sex had been great. That train of thought had thrown Bellamy off and the glazed look in his eyes as he remembered the two of them on the table in the study room last year had Echo making assumptions, leering at the man in front of her, she just couldn’t help herself.

 

“Who’s the girl, that’s got you all funky?”

 

Bellamy snapped his head up. “What?”

 

Echo smirked, “oh come on! You’ve been out of it all day, your not flirting and you just got all funny…” She trailed off at the last statement, but she wasn’t backing down, she eyed Bellamy and it unnerved him. He was thinking of a girl, but not in that way. He just wanted to understand Clarke, that’s all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! The kudos, bookmarks and comments are greatly appreciated (and loved!)

Clarke fit into their group, a lot better then any of them could of expected. She was smart and witty, with an attitude that was just strong enough to shock them. They were a group that showed affection through fast paced jibes, picking at one another and while for some of the group this had been a fast learning experience. Clarke seemed to thrive in this environment, seemingly always ready and waiting for the chance to trade blows with someone else. Although she always seemed to understand where the line was, only pushing someone as far as she believed they could go. With Monty, she was soft spoken and caring, the quips she gave more focused in terms of attempting to make him blush and splutter. While with Bellamy she seemed to sense how he himself flourished when he had a great partner to fight with. The two of them would spend ages trading blows to one another back and forth, fighting with each other about things as simple as the volume of the TV to things as great as the Roman Empire. Clarke in particular seemed to enjoy throwing in incorrect dates and information, just to watch Bellamy’s face twist and turn sour. Claiming that she won when he was too shocked with her statements to be able to reply.

 

Bellamy found himself enjoying Clarke’s company, even when she had him pulling at his hair and unable to comprehend some of things she was saying. Octavia seemed to love it when they fought, unable to stop the intense laugher when Bellamy become so frustrated he struggled to talk, sharing looks with Clarke before the two of them would walk off. Clarke loudly exclaiming herself to be the champion, before asserting herself on Bellamy’s chair and stating it was her reward for getting Bellamy to shut up. There was a lot that everyone seemed to love about Clarke, but nothing more then the way she handled Murphy. She bought out both a worse and better Murphy; still somehow, she softened the harsh lines that defined Murphy’s personality.

 

Clarke was squirming in Bellamy’s seat, once again claiming it as her own. Bellamy knew that if it were anyone else, he would have demanded they move, but she had a way at pulling at him. Convincing him that he had willingly offered up his seat to her. Murphy was currently leaning over from the couch, pulling at her feet that hung over the side. Bellamy stiffened in the doorway, as he watched the way she attempted to both move away from Murphy’s hand and kick at him too. Bellamy watched the way she writhed and twisted on the couch, her top moving higher as Murphy pulled her closer by a hand gripped tight around her ankle.

 

“Stop, STOP. I give, I give.” Slumping down into the couch and scramming to get her feet up and away from Murphy’s hands.

 

“Wimp” Murphy’s sneer pulled at his whole face, although it was clear that the sneer was becoming closer to a smile then Murphy’s wished it to be. Sitting with his back against the couch, Bellamy watched as Murphy leaned down to whisper in Octavia’s ear. Who had been watching their whole display with clear amusement, it was a shock to see the two of them getting alone so well. Clarke seemed unhappy with their combined efforts against her, storming into the kitchen and grabbing Bellamy’s arm.

 

“Well, you two can just sit right there and giggle the night away. Me and Bellamy are going to cook some dinner for tonight’s gathering” Clarke walked quickly past the two of them, grabbing Bellamy’s arm and turning her nose up at Murphy as she walked.

 

Bellamy allowed himself to be dragged by his arm into the kitchen, “I thought it was you and Octavia against me?” He couldn’t stop the grin that moved across his face; Clarke had turned towards him, hands on her hips and her lips puckered.

 

“Well Bellamy, I’ve jumped ship. _Your_ sister traded me in and sided with Murphy” It was odd the way her lips moved around ‘Murphy,’ it didn’t quite fit and it was clear that Clarke felt it. But she was too riled up, with pretending to play angry at their betrayal.

 

“So I’m your second choice?” That stumped her, cocking her head to the side, before deciding he was playing with her. Clarke moved to stand in front of Bellamy, his breathe caught in his throat, she was just so close. If Bellamy leaned forward _just an inch_ they’d be touching, Bellamy was forced to look down at her from this angle. Clarke was smaller then he thought, she was bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. She didn’t even reach his shoulder! Her hand moved up to pull slightly at his shirt, “No.” Moving back fast, she made her way to the fridge. _No,_ what did that mean?

“What are we making for dinner?” Bellamy was stuck in place, Clarke was currently bent over to view the contents at the back of the fridge. What was she asking about?

“Bellamy?” Oh god, what did she ask? How should he answer? Bellamy was saved from having to find an answer to a question he didn’t know by Murphy bumping hard into his side.

 

“So are you guys actually going to make dinner for tonight’s gathering, or should we all start rationing the peanuts left on the living room table?” Octavia’s voice ran slightly lower then normal, indicating to Bellamy that she was beginning to concoct a plan. Her eyes were currently flicking back and forth between Bellamy and Clarke’s still bent behind, the way her eyebrow was beginning to rise had the hair on the back of Bellamy’s neck standing up. Oh no, what an unlucky time to be caught ogling a pretty girl. Octavia was definitely going to make this into something more then it was.

 

“I’d prefer to risk it with the stale peanuts, then anything Clarke helped to cook” Murphy’s tone was dark and borderline rude, but Clarke was already slamming the fridge door shut. Leaping towards Murphy, his arms already waiting to catch her. Once she was safely held in his arms, legs wrapped tight around Murphy’s waist, she shook her head and glared down at him.

 

“I’ll have you know that I have become a very good cook since the last time I cooked for you” Bellamy felt his throat tighten at the way Clarke wrapped her body around Murphy’s, the two of them so comfortable in each others personal space.

 

“Clarke, you gave me food poisoning”

 

“I still maintain that you were sick before you ate” She’d snapped her head down, pulling at his collar to give her hands something to do.

 

“The chicken was raw!” Bellamy watched the way Murphy screwed up his face, in response to the memory they were speaking about.

 

“Only on the inside!”

 

Murphy sighed, moving Clarke to a more comfortable position. “Once again Clarke, raw chicken, even if it is only raw on the inside, it's not how chicken is served. It is however, how you kill someone.”

 

“Well maybe that’s what I was aiming for John, you do have a tendency to piss people off. Maybe I’d reached by boiling point.” She wiggled her way out of his arms, bouncing over to Bellamy’s side, wrapping her arm around his. “Now if you’ll excuse us, Bellamy and I were about to start dinner. Off you go.” Flicking her hand at Octavia and Murphy to indicate they weren’t needed.

 

The two of them worked together to pull ingredients out of the cabinets and fridge, moving around each other with minimal trouble. Only bumping into each once, when crossing paths. When the ingredients were laid out on the bench, Bellamy eyed them to work out what he could make that would feed the entire group. Clarke stood beside him, tugging gently at the curl that had escaped from where her hair was pulled back from her face.

 

“Bellamy I have a confession to make” they were once again facing each other, Clarke’s voice lowering in case Octavia and Murphy were listening to them. Bellamy instinctively leaned closer to Clarke, her eyes looking up into his. “I lied. I can’t cook. Not even toast.”

 

Bellamy stood still, before letting out a deep laugh. “I’m serious!” Her hand came up to slap against her mouth, eyeing the entryway to the living room. Watching out for Octavia and Murphy, afraid that they had heard her shout. When it was clear that no one was coming, she nodded her head affirmatively and continued. “You can’t tell John, I’ll never live it down.”

 

“So what are you suggesting then?”

 

“Well…” Clarke moved from side to side, her eyes running up and down Bellamy’s body. “I was thinking you could cook, and … maybe not tell the others that I didn’t help”

 

Bellamy smiled at her gently from the corner of his eye, “I could do that.” Clarke’s eyes widened and she smiled gently, once again pulling at the curl beside her face. “For a price…” her eyes snapped up to meet Bellamy’s own eyes. She was scrutinising him, beginning to fidget under his stare. He let her off before she could get to nervous, “you can at least help with cutting some things.”

 

“Deal” Holding her hand out to signify their agreement, half and hour later Miller, Monty and Jasper had arrived. The three of them, entering the kitchen quickly to say hi, each time Clarke would jump off the bench from her sitting position. Picking up the closest items, and pretending she was providing help for Bellamy and looking as if she was cooking everyone’s dinner. Bellamy having to shoo them out of them kitchen, under the pretense of the two of them needing to concentrate on cooking dinner, although Bellamy was strictly doing so as he’d learnt quickly that Clarke could in absolutely no way cook. He’d looked away for a moment and turned back to find Clarke standing there with a broken knife and a destroyed look on her face.She couldn’t even explain how it happened.

 

As Bellamy moved around the kitchen, Clarke moved around the kitchen with him. Constantly pulling herself up onto the bench to both watch Bellamy and pick at everything he was doing. It took him while to realize she was trying to goad him into a fight, each time he begun to snipe back her. Her eyes would widen with success and she’d inch closer to his body.

 

“Should garlic bread look like that?” Bellamy responded with terse look, refusing to comment or reply. “Isn’t that a bit too much salt?” He wouldn’t respond to her, when she realized she wasn’t affecting him. Clarke begun to wince and grimace as Bellamy begun to plate the food, leaning down close to the pasta and pesto sauce. Pulling back quickly as if the smell had greatly affected her, she begun to gag on the “stench.”

 

“Oh shut up,” Bellamy swiped his finger through the left over sauce in the pan, before running his finger down her cheek. She responded by attempting to pull him close with her legs, wrapping her arms around his neck and finally struggling to wipe her dirty cheek against Bellamy’s own face. When it was clear she was too small to reach his face, she began to aim for his shirt. Bellamy was forced to place his hands on her hips, holding her at bay. They ended up with Clarke pushed back against the bench, Bellamy towering over her.

 

“umm, are we interrupting?” Bellamy turned, jumping at the sound of Miller’s voice. They were being watched by the group, all of them eyeing the position that Bellamy currently held Clarke in. “Not that I care, but honestly I’d prefer you didn’t do shit like that near my food.” Miller moved forward picking up a plate and moving towards their dining room table. He sat down, and Bellamy pulled back from Clarke watching her jump down off the bench. The rest of the group followed Miller, all of them sitting down. Murphy stopped in front of Clarke, the two of them sharing a look Bellamy couldn’t quite understand. He flicked his eyes up to Bellamy; it wasn’t exactly a loving look. He seemed to be assessing Bellamy, he wasn’t sure if he passed but he turned back to Clarke. Carefully picking up a plate, stiffing at it carefully.

 

“There’s no way, Clarke cooked this.” Stomping towards the table to join the others. Clarke’s stood still with shock, Bellamy stepped up quickly, bumping his leg against Clarke’s.

 

“She did, I watched the whole time. Honestly, this is even her recipe.”

 

Murphy eyed them both, Clarke pulled up the seat next to Murphy, smiling brightly at him. They would have had him too until what happened next. Clarke took a big bite, moaning at the flavor of the pasta. Murphy turned his eyes on her, “New recipe?”  

Clarke rushed to take another bite, “I- can’t… food in my mouth,” intently observing her food and refusing to look at Murphy.

 

-&-

 

Clarke should have known, honestly she should have expected it would all go down hill. Her life just wasn’t built to go well, it was like there was a higher power up there. Who could sense when she was happy, choosing those times to strike.

 

-&-

 

They’d all finished dinner and were currently involved in an argument about what to watch, Jasper had already bought out Monty’s moonshine. Everyone crowded around to watch Clarke take her first sip of the highly toxic liquid, which paraded itself as a viable drink. They were all disappointed when Clarke managed to drown the liquid without much trouble, smirking at Murphy. Leaning over to high-five him, honestly it had nothing on the poisonous liquids Murphy used to give her to gag down.

 

Jasper was flicking through channels and Miller was trying to grab the remote from him when he was distracted by Octavia’s swaying hips, as she walked towards the drinks on the table. Miller wasn’t as successful as he hoped, the two of them were each left pulling at an end of the remote. It resulted in some of the buttons being pushed down, stuck in their designated holes, and the TV stopping on a news channel.

 

Clarke stiffened at the sight of her mother on TV, she was currently in the middle of a discussion about healthcare services and the need for them to be owned and controlled by private companies. She spoke as both a doctor and current Senator, Clarke couldn’t help but notice the tense lines on her mother’s face, at the person who was questioning her ideas. She clearly thought they were beneath her, or unable to grasp the concept. Clarke could almost sense her attempt to control her eyes from rolling. Clarke’s thought process was interrupted by Bellamy scoffing at the TV screen.

 

“Of course, Senator Griffin would believe in private healthcare, she’s a pretentious, rich, entitled Senator. Who can easily afford any healthcare she would require, it’s people like her who have no idea what the world is really like.”

 

Clarke turned slightly, uncomfortable with what he was saying, but she couldn’t very well deny either. Murphy was edging closer to Clarke now, he turned to watch her face. A silent question on his mind, _‘they don’t know?’_

Clarke swore she had mentioned her last name, even if she hadn’t Murphy could have. Bellamy was still speaking, the others in the room nodding and supplying hums of agreement. He turned then, noticing Clarke and Murphy’s silence. Raising an eyebrow at the two of them. Clarke could understand, Murphy was very loud with his opinions on rich, entitled snobs, yet he was extremely quiet right now. Better now then never Clarke thought.

 

Coughing to clear her throat and also buy herself some time, “That’s my mum.”

 

The room was silent and while most of the group managed to look down and away from Clarke. Bellamy was assessing the girl before him, his anger slowly growing. A deep, dark sneer setting itself on his face, scoffing at the girl before him. Clarke twitched at the look, “Of course you are, I assume you agree with your _mother._ ” The way Bellamy said the word ‘mother’ was an insult all by itself, it shocked Clarke enough that she was unable to respond. Clarke pulled herself up high ready to explain, “Typical, another blonde bimbo with nothing to say”

 

Clarke stood then, how dare he?

“Excuse me! Bellamy how dare you?”

 

“How dare I? How dare you? Tell me princess are you enjoying slumming it down here with us. Getting to see how the other side lives, we must make for some great stories at the country club!” They were standing in front of each other now, Bellamy had balled his hands at his sides. Clarke was struggling to understand what the hell was happening and why Bellamy was acting this way.

 

“You know what” Clarke held her hands up, “I’m not doing this, I’m going to leave and I’ll come back another day when you’ve calmed down.”

 

Clarke was beginning to turn around when he said it, “That’s right princess, run home to mummy and daddy at the smallest hint of confrontation.” Clarke turned, her hand already moving before she could process it. The sound seemed to almost vibrate across the room when her hand collided with Bellamy’s cheek.

“Get. Out.”

So she did.

 

 

                                                                                  


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone who commented, kudos and bookmarked. It means so much to me!! Please continue to comment and let me know what you think :) xx

Bellamy regretted it as soon as he heard the front door slam; he knew he had some deep-seated issues about money and by extension anyone who had grown up with it. Bellamy’s mother had died a few months short of his high school graduation, so at 18 Bellamy had worked two jobs and finished school while taking care of Octavia. After graduating he had found another one, to ensure that Octavia could focus solely on her education. It had set Bellamy’s life plan back a few years and he had only just started his Masters program.

 

He’d seen an interview with Senator Griffin, it had been conducted in her house (see; mansion) where she’d preached and prattled on about her views that clearly revolved around privatization and upper class people and families. Combined with her political views and attitude, connecting her Clarke had made her an easy target for him to vent his years of pent up frustrations. But in the entire time he’d know Clarke she’d never once seemed like she shared her mother’s views. If anything, she was nothing like what Bellamy assumed someone from her lifestyle would be like. He was still standing in the middle of the living room, when he was smacked on the back of his head.

 

“Octavia?”

 

“What the hell Bellamy?” Octavia was standing in front of him, hands on her hips, lips set in a hard line.

 

Oh yer, he’d fucked up. “O, I’m just …”

 

“Just a conceited, self-involved dick, who lets childhood issues mess with his current life and friendships,” Bellamy eyed the rest of the group, all of them seeming to agree with Octavia’s statement. All of them looking personally offended by the way Bellamy spoke to Clarke, even soft, sweet Monty is refusing to meet his eye, instead shaking his head and grumbling under his breath to Jasper.

 

“Yer, I guess-“

 

“I don’t think she meant it as a question,” turning to face the new voice, Bellamy was met with Murphy standing directly behind him.

 

“You honestly feel that way about Clarke?” Murphy himself looks calm, which is beginning to unnerve Bellamy. Murphy's immediate response to anything is anger, so this calm attitude is leaving Bellamy a little unsure of how to proceed.

 

Bellamy sighs loudly, running his hands through his hair, tugging on the tight curls. “No, Of course not.”

 

“Good,” Murphy turned slightly before thinking better of it and turning to face Bellamy again. “Your going to apologize has soon as you see her again,” Bellamy nodded, knowing there was no point arguing. They were all agreeing with Murphy (shock!), but even without the warning in his tone, Bellamy knew he was in the wrong and would be apologizing to Clarke anyway.

 

Murphy sneered “oh, one more thing” pulling his right hand back and swinging his whole body into the punch, it was hard enough to have Bellamy thrust backwards.

 

Then Murphy was storming out the front door, making sure to slam the door as hard as possible. The rest of the group followed his example, each of them glaring at Bellamy as they left the room. Until he was left alone in the living room, his face aching and blood gushing from his nose.

                                                                                                                          

-&-

 

Murphy shook his head, for fucks sake could Bellamy have put his head further up his arse? Clarke had speed out of their street, there was no sight of her car when Murphy climbed into his. Making his way to Clarke’s apartment, while he was stopped at a red light the redness on his knuckles caught his eye. There was dried blood on his knuckles, that definitely wasn’t his, and once again Murphy couldn’t stop the sneer from forming on his face. Murphy hoped he broke his nose, whether Bellamy meant what he said or not.

 

Pulling his phone out, he dialed the number without thinking about it. “Come on Clarke, pick up, _pick up,_ ” Murphy grumbled. For fuck’s sake he was not in the mood for Clarke to act like a child, they were doing so well. With everything that was going on at the moment, Murphy figured it would be a long time before he saw Clarke truly happy again. It was strange enough that the group of delinquents he called roommates and friends had so easily accepted him. Even if they did fight a majority of the time, but Murphy was surprised with how quickly they took to Clarke, she could be prickly with new people but she thrived with the group.

 

Murphy repeatedly called Clarke’s phone, not that he really expected her to answer, and her mum was a sore subject. Not even Murphy was willing to bring it up, as less she did first.

 

When he reached her voicemail again he lost it, “pick up your goddamn phone Clarke, I’m not going to chase you around anymore.” He put his phone down, refusing to pick it up, but he did concede to put his foot down.

 

He’d reached Clarke’s apartment complex faster then expected, letting himself inside and was fully prepared to bang on her door until she answered. But the door opened as soon as his fist first hit the door, and Lincoln stood in front of him. “Clarke here?”

 

“Hmm,” Lincoln indicated to her bedroom door with his head. When he continued to use his body as a barrier between Murphy and the apartment, Murphy attempted to push past him. Lincoln’s hand came out to grab at his shoulder and force him back outside. “Wait here,” Murphy tried not to shutter instead producing a cruel sneer, as Lincoln eyed him from head to toe before slamming the door shut in Murphy’s face.

 

Murphy was getting extremely agitated. He was tempted to just storm his way inside the apartment and after listening carefully for movement behind the door and hearing none, he shook the door handle to see if it would open. It opened under his touch, and he was met with Clarke’s red and blotchy face.

 

Without thinking he pulled her forward into his arms, Clarke tugged herself closer, taking a deep breath and squeezing at his sides. It was when he was kissing the top of her head that she finally spoke “Come on John, stop it. You don’t want Lincoln to know you actually have feelings inside that hollow tin chest, do you?”

 

Murphy pulled softly on the curls escaping wildly from her bun, “I don’t, I’m just really good at faking it.”

 

“and what purpose do you have for faking it?” Clarke smirks when she realizes she’s got one up on him.

 

Seeing Lincoln moving around in the apartment gives him an idea, “I’ve got a thing for your roommate and you’re my way in.”

 

Murphy can see the moment Lincoln hears his comment; he’s frozen in the middle of the room, turning to eye the two of them in the doorway. Then he’s huffing and walking away into his room, Clarke takes the moment to snort and smack at his shoulder. “You shouldn’t tease him, he could literally beat you up in 30 seconds flat.”

 

“He wishes,” Murphy grins at Clarke, but thinks better of it. “You’ve still got a lock on your door right?”

 

Clarke’s rolls her eyes, “Lincoln wouldn’t hurt me.”

 

“God you’re self involved, I meant me. Who knows what that drug-taking beef cake will do while I’m sleeping.” Murphy pretends to shake at the thought; it causes Clarke to giggle.

 

“ _Beef-cake_?” There’s a teasing smile on Clarke’s face and Murphy once again wanders at the things he’ll do or say to make Clarke smile.

 

“You ever gonna let me in?”

 

“Hang on, I’m thinking about it?”

-&-

 

Octavia is fuming and Bellamy knows it, she’s cleaned off his face but she’s refusing to talk to him. Bellamy’s about to say something, but she’s already dragging on his hand. “Umm O, I know you’re mad at me but could you at least tell me what the hell you’re doing?”

 

Octavia is glaring intently at him, “ _We’re_ going to Clarke’s apartment, then _you_ are going to apologize on your hands and knees and beg her to just be in your presence without punching you in your already fucked up face.”

 

Bellamy screws his face up, ignoring the pain that radiates from the middle of his face. “She’s going to hate me,” there’s a slight whine in his voice.

 

“I would”

 

“Gee thanks O, that’s exactly the kind of support I need right now.”

 

Octavia is still dragging him through the house, waving at the others in the kitchen, who share mixed expressions of confusion and amusement at her actions. “First of all; I’m not gonna support the stupidity that was that dick move in the living room. Second; there is no way in hell I’m losing Clarke. If anything I’m picking her over you.”

 

That stings a little, “I already said I’d apologize, you don’t have to drag me there.” He knows that his whining and sounds pathetic, “I promise I will.”

 

Octavia smiles, but it’s not exactly nice, more like a snake about to attack. “Well you’ve got some free time now.”

 

“My head kinda hurts, I probably shouldn’t drive.”

 

Octavia’s already holding his car keys up, smirking at him before he even finishes his sentence. “I’ll drive.”

 

“Do you even know where Clarke lives?” Bellamy hopes she says no, it’s not like she knows he does.

 

“Hmm, yep. I picked her up the other week when we went out.” Damn.

 

It’s not until there driving there, that Bellamy truly acknowledges what his afraid of. Clarke is going to hate him, or at the very least they wont be as close as they were earlier today.

 

-&-

 

Clarke’s lying on her bed, John is currently messing up her bookshelf. He’d been attracted by a picture of the two of them from when they were younger, he’s currently in the middle of making fun of her for her hairstyle choice but the insults are only making her smile.

 

“I mean come on Clarke, look at that hair.”

 

“What’s the matter with my hair in the picture? It looks exactly the same as it does now.”

 

Clarke watches him wince, “yer I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that…”

 

“Shut up, and sit down.” Clarke can’t help but smile, when he sneers. John had been intimidating when she first met him, back when she was basically afraid of her own shadow. Until he kind of just took Clarke in and she realized it was all a cover for the scared kid underneath.

 

Once he was seated at the end of her bed, Clarke pushed her legs up onto his lap.

 

“So this is why you called me? Needed a foot cushion?” They were punctuated with John’s almost constant sneer and mocking, but his hand was softly running along the back of her ankle.

 

“Yep”

 

Clarke pulled herself up, bending down to pick up her drawing pad; she laid it on John’s lap. Bending herself over to begin an image, “does Bellamy really hate me?”

 

John shrugged, “who gives a fuck?”

 

They sat there in silence and Clarke enjoyed it, it was like old times. Back when she was still 17, after John would pick her up from wherever the hell she had collapsed after going home with some guy or girl before taking her home. Clarke smiled at the memory of the sour looks on her mother’s face, whenever John would drag her inside, looking thoroughly ravished and well hangover, the look only getting darker when she would watched him basically carry Clarke into her room. John had never helped, purposing sneering and making crude gestures to antagonize her mother. They would spend their days sleeping and Clarke drawing, often in a position much like the one they were in now.

 

Clarke’s mother had always assumed they were up to something more, especially since she assumed they were spending their nights _together_. But after everything Clarke had been through, her mother wasn’t able to say much. Not when Clarke had partly blamed her for what had happened and she herself knew she held some blame.

 

John had wriggled his way down until he was comfortably lying on the bed next to Clarke, she was forced to move her drawing and the soft snoring was a tad distracting but it allowed her the opportunity to draw John without his constant disruption. In almost 5 years of knowing John, she had never once completed a drawing of him where he didn’t end up sneering from the image on the paper. When he was sleeping was the only time that the sneer was ever completely gone from his face, so she took the opportunity to begin sketching him while he snorted.

 

There was a slight knock on her door, soft and subtle. Lincoln was way too polite for a guy who looked as gruff as he did. Opening her door, she was met with Lincoln. “There are some people here to see you.”

 

Opening her door wider, she saw Octavia and Bellamy. While Bellamy looked nervous and slightly concerned, Octavia simply waved, smiling. “Hey, Clarke!”

 

“Octavia,” Clarke’s eyes assessed the current situation, Bellamy clearly didn’t want to be here. Her heart sunk, Octavia must have dragged him here.

 

-&-

 

“Alright, here we are.” Octavia held her hands out in front of the apartment door, “Remember, beg if you need to. I like her more then you.”

 

Knocking lightly on the door, Octavia expected Clarke or Murphy, since they’d seen his car parked outside. But instead she was met with what she assumed was Lincoln. Octavia had heard Clarke speak about him a few times, they were roommates and worked together but not once at she mentioned just how gorgeous she was. He eyed the both of them before sighing and letting them both inside. Then shut the door behind them, Octavia noticed that Bellamy looked a little concerned that they might have walked into a drug den or something.

 

“I’ll get Clarke,” his voice was low and gravely, making Octavia tingle in all the right places.

 

“How do you know we’re here to see Clarke?” Bellamy was suspicious of his behavior, placing his hand on Octavia’s back ready to steer her out of here at the soonest sign of trouble.

 

Octavia took the opportunity to look around while Lincoln retrieved Clarke; the wall in the living room was a mural that covered the entire wall. Each section displaying something secrete and hidden, a door squeaked and Octavia turned to see Clarke. Octavia really hoped that this went well, she didn’t want to lose Clarke, (she also wouldn’t object to finding an excuse to hang out with Lincoln).

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, once again. It means so much to me, and I am so wowed by the response to the chapters and the story overall.

Clarke eyes were moving quickly around the room, it made Bellamy nervous, she was refusing to look anywhere near him. As Clarke moved to shut her bedroom door, Octavia was talking a mile a minute, chattering on about something. Clarke was polite and nodding her head at the appropriate intervals, but it was clear she was uncomfortable. Even clearer that it was Bellamy’s presence causing the discomfort, it was alright he told himself, he’d apologize and she’s either accept it or she wouldn’t. There was nothing he could do about that, but he really hoped she did.

 

Bellamy felt the eyes on him, before he moved. He realized that Clarke’s roommate was watching him, his face lacking any facial expressions. He seemed to be judging him, and Bellamy felt as though that whatever test he was being put under, he was failing.

 

“Bellamy!” Octavia’s voice shocked him; the glare she was giving was penetrating and forced him back into the conversation.

 

“Huh, what?”

 

Octavia and Clarke were standing together now, but Octavia moved forward, feigning some excuse about needing a drink and laying her hand on Clarke’s massive roommate’s arm. Octavia winked at him and Bellamy forced himself to focus on Clarke again and worry about Octavia and where her hands were placed later. But as the two of them breezed past Bellamy she leant towards him “this is where you beg.”

 

Bellamy was sure that both Clarke and her roommate heard, and so he attempted to chuckle at the awkward moment, to help it pass. But it came out more as an awkward cough. “Look Clarke-,“ Bellamy stumbled over his words, trying to find a way to explain his actions.

 

Clarke turned her back on him, choosing to play with something on a side table next to her. When she begun to speak, it was fast paced and extremely nervous. “Don’t stress Bellamy, doesn’t mean a thing. I’d prefer to stay friends with Octavia and the rest of the group, but I can make sure to only see them when you’re not around. I know that a lot of people don’t agree with my mother’s views, –“

 

“Clarke, you’re going into ‘irrational crazy Clarke mode’ “ This morning that statement would have resulted in a swift smack to his shoulder and a small scowl, which made her eyebrows pucker and caused Bellamy to smile. Instead Bellamy was met with the stiff set of her shoulders; she still hadn’t turned around to face him. “Look, I just wanted to explain...”

 

Bellamy sighed, he knew without a doubt that Octavia was right around the corner just waiting to jump out and step in, if he didn’t and he was quoting his sister here; “man up.” So he decided to do just that, breathing in deep and walking right up to Clarke.

 

“Clarke, Look at me.” When she still didn’t turn, Bellamy gently laced his hands around her body forcing her to turn and face him. He waited until he caught her eyes, dropping his own head down a few inches, to ensure she would look at him. “I am so sorry about what I said, I just have some insecurities about money and some –“ he took a deep breath “look I am no good at this. I’m a dick and I’m really, really, _really_ sorry about what I said and I swear I regretted it as soon as I said it.”

 

Clarke finally lifted her head, the only indication Bellamy received that she had even listened to him. Bellamy’s heart stuttered when all she did was simply nod but refused to comment on what he had just said. There was an awkward stand off between the two of them and Bellamy frantically tried to think of what he could do or say to fix this.

 

Clarke made a slight gesture with her hand, before pulling it back quickly, “let’s just forget it” and although Bellamy desperately wanted to believe that it would be as simple as that. It was clear that it wouldn’t be the case; there was still the awkward underlying tension between them. Clarke’s face lacked any facial expression, and she was subconsciously swaying on her feet.

 

The words he needed just weren’t coming to mind, so instead he leant forward intending to place his hand on her arm, but she pulled back before his hand made contact. The door next to them banged open, Murphy exiting, with rumpled clothing and his hair a mess. Looking between the two of them before focusing in on Bellamy, “nice face.” He motioned towards the bruising in the center, Murphy kept his tone sarcastic but Bellamy could see the anger clearly in his face.

 

“Thanks Murphy, but it still looks better then yours.”

 

“You’re right, the damage I caused definitely does improve your face. I wouldn’t say enough to be better looking then me, but it is an improvement.”

 

Murphy was edging closer to Clarke, Bellamy didn’t fail to notice that by doing so he was strategically placed between him and Clarke. Bellamy hummed in agreement when he was too distracted and failed to come up with something to say, Murphy crossed his arms and flicked his head back to indicate that he wanted Bellamy to walk away and leave him alone with Clarke.

 

“I should go check on Octavia. It’s a bit too quiet in the kitchen for anything good to be happening.”

 

Clarke nodded silently, and when Bellamy attempted to once again make eye contact, she turned her head. Murphy turned his back on him then, he was almost in the kitchen before he turned to look at them. Murphy was leaning down, speaking to her quietly. “Did he apologize?”

 

Bellamy turned towards the kitchen again before he heard anymore, it would hurt him a lot more then he was willing to admit if he had to listen to her say she didn’t forgive him.

 

-&-

 

Octavia had attempted to resolve the situation in the only way she knew how, by breezing past it and pretending that everything was okay. She had set all of them up in Clarke’s living room, flicked on the TV and began a pointless conversation.

 

Bellamy was hopeful that it would work, but while they were all seated together and everyone was talking. Clarke was faced away from him, her body language clearly indicating her discomfort, her roommate was still watching him and Murphy, although involved in the conversation was extremely terse (even more so then usually) and Bellamy knew that it was his presence causing all of this.

 

“I should go, I have work early tomorrow.” Bellamy kept it light and directed it at the room, instead of an individual.

 

Octavia was quick to respond, “I’ll come with you.”

 

Bellamy smiled gently, “Nah O, stay. Have fun. I’m sure Murphy can drive you back?” He finished by directing his question to Murphy, who rolled his eyes but sneered and Bellamy took it to mean that he was agreeing.

 

He spent the entire car ride regretting and re-thinking his entire day, playing out in his head the ways in which he could have fixed this or what he could have done instead. But the fact of the matter was he fucked up, and Clarke was going to hate him forever.

 

When he got home the others were still in the living room, somewhat (a lot) drunker then when he left. Jasper was the first to jump up, swaying on his feet slightly, “so… did mom and dad make up?” Bellamy caught him, before turning to face the others. Monty was chuckling under his breath, while the corner of Miller’s mouth lifted.

 

“What?”

 

Jasper’s mouth twisted into a smile, “yer, you know.” When Bellamy clearly didn’t understand, Jasper slapped his arm around Bellamy’s shoulder. “Coz you’re an old, grumpy man and Clarke’s all motherly and caring.”

 

Coughing awkwardly at the statement and the others reactions, Bellamy tried to force the image of Clarke, him and children, with tan skin and bright blue eyes, out of his mind. “Yer, we’re alright.”

 

It was the biggest lie, he’d ever told, to them and himself.

 

-&-

 

Clarke had hoped that they would be able to return to normal, but she found herself distancing herself from Bellamy. It wasn’t so much intentional or planned, but she couldn’t help it either. Clarke would have pushed through it and attempted to move past it, but after knowing how he truly felt about her she couldn’t quite force herself to try too hard.

 

It also appeared as if Bellamy wasn’t that interested in moving past it either, anytime they hung out now, he tended to drift away from her throughout the group activities. Anytime she tried to make conversation with him, he was reserved and abrupt with his responses.

 

It left them in an impasse, John was no help, and his response was the same as always. That she shouldn’t care, that it didn’t matter, but Clarke was more concerned with how it would also affect the others. Clarke didn’t want to be the person who tore apart a friendship group, so she was trying to subtlety remove herself.

 

Which is why on a Thursday night, a few weeks after everything went down, Clarke decided to stay home, claiming that she was inspired and would have to stay home and work on some of her art pieces, when Octavia asked.

 

But as she stood in front of the canvas, nothing came to mind. Clarke had kicked Lincoln out of the apartment, once again claiming inspiration. So she felt that after lying to quite a few people, she should make an attempt to actually do some work. Except Clarke had nothing, no ideas at all.

 

Which meant instead of working, Clarke was lying on her back, on her couch with her feet up above her. Eyeing the nail polish on her toenails, how could an artist be so bad at painting her own nails? They were a bright, somewhat glowing blue that reminded her of the colours in Octavia’s butterfly tattoo. Which did give her an idea…

 

“Hey O, I know I said I was busy. But could I ask a huge favour?”

 

-&-

 

They were all seated around the TV, and although everyone was laughing and the conversation was filled with the usual fast paced wisecracks and one-liners, Bellamy knew something or _someone_ in this case was missing and he was the one to blame.

 

Everyone in the room had an unspoken agreement to not comment on the tension between him and Murphy, because despite the fact that Bellamy had apologized to Clarke and she had accepted and they somewhat agreed to move on. They really hadn’t. Murphy seemed to take the insult to Clarke personally, and since she wasn’t in attendance tonight he was responding with an even angrier attitude and sneers and Bellamy was on the receiving end.

 

Bellamy was trying his best to ignore his words, but he didn’t have the heart to really fight back like he usually would. So instead he attempted to placate Murphy and focus on the conversation with Miller.

 

Octavia was settled into a corner with Jasper and Monty, playing some card game, when her phone rang.

 

“Yep,” Octavia answered without looking at the screen.

 

She was smiling at whoever was on the phone, whatever they said left her a little confused. “Umm sure,” Octavia was nodding as the person on the phone spoke. There was finally a break in the conversation and Octavia looked cheerful and excited, “Yer okay, I’ll be right over!”

 

With that she jumped up collecting her things, “Bell, I’m gonna borrow your car.”

 

Bellamy was a little suspicious about what was happening and so made sure to give Octavia a look that would let her know she had some explaining to do. “And the reason for borrowing my car, is?”

 

“I’m going to Clarke’s,” she said it simply, refusing to look at Bellamy.

 

Murphy was the first to break the silence, “Umm, why-”

 

Bellamy interrupted his question with his own, “I thought she was busy tonight?”

 

Octavia looked between the two of them, Bellamy could sense the sarcastic comment on the tip of her tongue but instead she settled for rolling her eyes. “She’s working on an art piece, she said she had an idea and wanted my help.”

 

Bellamy heard his keys jingle, and the door shut. Everyone went back to their original places and conversations, but both he and Murphy were stuck in place. Murphy looked put out and as he was walking to the kitchen to grab another beer, Bellamy swore he saw him pull out his phone and grumble something about not getting a call or text from Clarke. Bellamy would have laughed at the sight of Murphy being so put out, if he weren’t also feeling similar. At least he hadn’t ruined Clarke’s relationship with Octavia.

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who gave kudos, commented and bookmarked. It means the world to me!! 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

Clarke hoped this could be a fresh start for them. The past few weeks had been awkward, and Bellamy was still keeping his distance, but he’d make her tea without asking. Would place extra caramel sauce on her ice cream when he noticed she like it, would make a point of smiling gently at her whenever he caught her eye and doing little gestures without her noticing. Murphy was actually the one to point it out, and Clarke realized that it was his way of trying to make things right. But they were still kinda stuck, it seemed that Bellamy was waiting for Clarke to make some kind of move forward, to show that they were okay. So she decided that today would be the best opportunity to do so, and hey the best way to get past awkward moments would be to make a new one. But that didn’t help her nerves. Especially when she looked up at the image she had created, and although she looked at it and saw the pinnacle of Bellamy’s personality. There was a slight fear that it was all wrong, and he’d hate it.

 

So Clarke was a complete nervous wreck, as soon as she had the idea about Octavia’s butterfly, the rest of the pieces had just flow from there. Each of them similar, yet entirely different from each other, representing the person it was based on. Clarke had honestly been extremely proud with each painting, every time she finished one, she felt as though she had managed to capture the essence of the person.

 

She continued to feel the pride welling up inside her right through showing the collection to her art dealer, right through the process of setting up her own Art Show, it was only about a week before the show that the pride begun to dissipate and was slowly replaced by extremely tense and anxious emotion.

 

Octavia had casually mentioned that she wanted to see the painting of her, that she deserved to be able to see it, since she was in it. Which had made Clarke realize that it was probably very true for the individuals within her other paintings. The issue was, they didn’t know they were in them. A fact which only made Clarke more nervous, but she supposed it was true. She should probably get their approval, that’s why on an early Sunday morning she had invited the four individuals from the main pieces to come view their own painting.

 

Octavia had been ecstatic, flouncing into the gallery like she’d been there a million times. She had begun sticking her head around each wall, severely disappointed to find them blank. Clarke had simply smiled saying the canvas’ wouldn’t be hung until the day before the show, for the moment she was just designing their placement. After the initial pouting and whining, Clarke had drawn Octavia into her arms to ensure she would follow.

 

“Okay, tell me if you hate it and want it gone.” Clarke didn’t realize her hands were shaking until Octavia pulled them from her shoulders and held them in her hands.

 

“Clarke, I know I’ll love it.” At Clarke’s snort Octavia grabbed at her shoulder, “I’ve seen your work, there is nothing you could paint that I would hate. I know it.”

 

“You never know, it could be the one piece you absolutely hate.” But Clarke’s tone was lighter, and Octavia knew it was now more of a joke.

 

“Alright well, I guess you better lead me to this hideous painting then.” Clarke shoved at Octavia’s shoulder, leading her towards the back of the gallery.

 

Moving forth, Clarke pulled out the canvas. It was covered in blue swirls, Octavia’s body pale in comparison. The only real colour the blue that surround her and the blue butterfly held within her hands, presented to the audience like a gift. Octavia’s body was collapsed in on itself, and although the position should have made her look weak and fragile, Clarke had managed to make her eyes look strong and fierce. Drawing in the viewer and pulling focus, Octavia was stunned.

 

Clarke was watching her face intently, scared of the reaction. Octavia’s mouth was almost gaping, but she turned to face Clarke giving her a soft smile.

 

“Well, um-“ Octavia shook her head, “I always thought when someone finally painted me naked I’d look sexier.”

 

Clarke couldn’t help the tense laugh that escaped her, but before she could speak, Octavia spoke again. “I mean Clarke, you covered all my good bits! You couldn’t even put in some side boob? I mean _come on,_ I’m naked and you see nothing!”

 

“I thought about it,” Clarke made sure to lavish Octavia with a wink, “but honestly it was all an excuse to just get you naked in front of me.”

 

Octavia gasped, “I knew it, and you called me here today to have your way with me! Well let me tell you right now Clarke, it takes more then one painting of me to sleep with someone. So if you’re planning anything, you better whip up some more.”

 

Clarke choked on her laugh, trying to hold it in. Octavia’s smirk didn’t help, but once she settled down she realized she never really got an answer. “Sooo..”

 

Octavia roller her eyes, “I love it and you know it. Don’t fish for compliments..”

 

As Clarke was escorting her out, Octavia attempted to persuade Clarke to let her see the other paintings, but she adamantly refused. “I know, Bellamy’s in one.”

 

“hmm” Clarke walked a little faster, attempting to get her out faster.

 

“Don’t hmm me. You should have seen him when he got the call last night, nearly dropped dead when you told him you painted him and wanted him to see it before the show.”

 

“hmm,” Octavia’s face was suddenly in front of her own.

 

“Seriously, I think this is good, you guys can put everything behind you.”

 

Clarke shrugged, “That’s the plan.”

 

“Good,” Octavia wrapped her arm around Clarke, “coz our love would never survive without my brother’s approval.” The over dramatic declaration, was interrupted by the door opening.

 

“Well, isn’t this adorable?”

 

-&-

 

Bellamy had changed shirts 6 times, he knows because each time Miller had made a face. Causing Bellamy to cringe and change his shirt, fearing that the shirt was giving the wrong impression. So standing in front of his draws, he had basically emptied them onto his floor, he had even begun muttering to himself,

 

“Where’s the black shirt? Clarke loves the black shirt!” Bellamy smirked, when he remembered Clarke eyeing his arms.

 

Then he nearly hit himself that was before he fucked it up, “maybe the blue one then?”

 

Bellamy was ashamed to admit that he jumped when someone replied, “nah not the blue.”

 

“Miller!” Bellamy turned away, pretending to be nonchalant, walking to his desk before turning back and replying with a slight whine. “Why not the blue shirt?”

 

“Coz Clarke likes you in the black shirt,” Miller walked off without a second glance and Bellamy nearly screamed. He would wear the black one, if he could find it.

 

He was terrified enough that he’d show up to view the painting and things would be too tense; they had eased into a better routine over the past few weeks. Slowly moving closer to what they had been before, but it wasn’t great. He wanted to make sure today went great, it could be the beginning of making things right.

 

It was settled, he _needed_ the black shirt.

 

-&-

 

Clarke smiled at the intruder, “Jealous Reyes? You should have made your claim for me before then.”

 

Raven smirked, “Wasn’t talking about you, it’s such a shame that someone like that-“ Raven indicated with her head towards Octavia, “is taken by someone like you.” Raven sneered at Clarke.

 

Clarke smiled when Octavia looked confused; Clarke was about to explain when Raven started speaking again. “Bitch.”

 

“Hey! Now hold on, I don’t know who you are or what your doing here but you don’t get to say things like that!”

 

“Snappy little thing isn’t she?”

Octavia was stepping towards Raven, and Raven began to assess the girl in front of her. “O, don’t stress, that’s just Raven. She doesn’t mean it.”

 

Octavia took the time to look between the two women, when Clarke smiled again she let it go.

 

Raven noticed the new girl’s look and shared a look with Clarke, as if they were sharing some kind of private joke.

 

Clarke smiled, leaning forward to reach for Raven and pulled her into a hug. After allowing Clarke to hold her for just a few seconds, Raven begun to struggle. “You know, I called you a bitch so things like this wouldn’t happen.”

 

“yer but I knew you didn’t mean it.”

 

“Clarke let go, or I’ll hit you and make it feel like I mean it.”

 

Quickly letting go, Clarke begun to lead Raven towards the back office and Octavia made to follow.

“NO, you saw your own and that’s it, the rest wait until the Art Show.” Octavia made to pout, but Clarke slapped a hand across her mouth. “Nope, not gonna work.”

 

After Clarke pushed her outside the door, making a point of locking the door. Octavia looked through the window, only for Raven to poke her tongue out and make a rude gesture with her hand.

 

Clarke shook her head, already knowing that these two knowing each other would be an issue.

 

“Come on.” Clarke kept her pace slightly slower to accommodate Raven’s slower pace, hoping it wasn’t too obvious.

 

When she reached the back room, Clarke left the door open and begun looking for the canvas she needed, while also giving Raven the time she needed to catch up. When Clarke finally did find the canvas, her nerves grew tenser. As her nerves beginning to frazzle, Clarke had only known Raven for about 6 months and while she could say that she considered them quite close now. They didn’t exactly start on great terms.

 

Clarke bit at her bottom lip, noticing her hands were slightly shaking when she leant the canvas against the wall.

 

Raven’s face didn’t change, her eyes running intently over ever section of the canvas; Clarke could see the exact moment she saw the necklace.

 

The painting depicted Raven in military gear; her leg brace clear in the bottom of her painting. It displayed a strong woman standing in a fighting stance, blood bleeding through the fabric where her heart was. But it was the necklace that was the focal point, held in her left hand, slipping through the fingers, almost about to drop to the ground. The image was covered in twirls of purple almost overshadowing Raven’s portrait.

 

When Raven still didn’t speak, Clarke felt as though she was twitching, she shouldn’t have put in Finn’s raven necklace. But it had just fit so well.

 

Clarke moved forward, beginning to cover the canvas, it was only after the image was no longer in view that Raven seemed to reanimate.

 

“I don’t have to use it, you can be the only person to ever see it,” Clarke kept her voice soft and made to move towards Raven.

 

Raven spoke before she even got there, “No, you can use it. It’s good.” She turned around and moved out of the room then, beginning to talk about something else. Prattling on about some engineer that was annoying her at work, realizing she wished to talk about something else, Clarke let her. Pretending she understood half of what she was saying, when she spoke about her current project.

 

It was easy conversation and she let her mine wander beginning to compare herself to Raven, it was something she had done many times before, and once again she wondered why Finn would stray from someone like Raven, to be with someone like her. Who paled in comparison to Raven’s beauty, intelligence and wit.

 

-&-

 

Bellamy looked down at his phone again, checking he had the right address. Once he was sure he knocked on the gallery door, trying not to shift too much so that he didn’t appear as nervous as he felt he was.

 

When the door still hadn’t opened, Bellamy reached up to knock again. Flinching backwards when his fist almost met Clarke’s face, she gave him a small scowl but moved to invite him inside. Once he was inside, he let his head search the room for her paintings. He heard a soft laugh behind him, forcing him to turn. “What?”

 

Clarke shook her head, “nothing. It’s just you and Octavia are so alike.”

 

Bellamy knew he must have looked quite confused, but Clarke just shook her head and begun to lead him to a room further out back. As they were walking he continued to eye the walls around, extremely disappointed when he found them all blank. Clarke noticed and just continued to smirk slightly, “alright so, tell me if you hate it and no one else will ever see it.”

 

Bellamy smiled when he noticed how nervous she was, he hid the smile when a part of him become excited about the idea that Clarke not only painted _him,_ but she cared about what he thought of it.

 

When Clarke had called him he’d almost fallen over in shock, but when she told him it was a portrait, this was not what he expected.

 

It was odd to see his own image, larger then himself. He was seated in an antique style chair, bent forward with his arms against his knees, a book hanging from his hands. But his eyes facing forward, looking directly at the viewer, it was unnerving to look at his own image, especially with the intense look on his face. He didn’t recognize the look, and tried to place the expression.

 

Realizing Clarke was waiting he turned to look at her, “I love it.”

 

She rolled her eyes, but laughed softly. “Seriously, your okay if I use it?”

 

“Yer I want you to use it.” Clarke was biting her lip, and when the moment grew too long he scratched at the back of his head. “I guess, I should leave?” He didn’t mean to phrase it as a question, but he knew it came out as one.

 

“Yer.”

 

Bellamy nodded, moving back out into the main room.

 

“Or you could stay, I’ll still been here for a while longer. Murphy will be asleep until like 2, and wont come until then, we could get some take out and eat here?”

 

Bellamy hoped he didn’t seem too overeager, but Clarke’s soft laugh let him know he wasn’t as successful as he thought he was.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you so much to the response to this story. It means so much to me. Thank you so much for the continued kudos, comments and bookmarks. 
> 
> It gives me life, so please continue to do so! Let me know what you think!!

Bellamy and Clarke had gone to the Thai restaurant around the corner from the gallery, both of them awkwardly standing in the waiting area for their food. The gallery and restaurant were located in a relatively well-off area; the food more expensive then was strictly necessary.

                                                                                           

Clarke had tentatively offered to pay and Bellamy had known that his face had twisted without Bellamy meaning to. Automatically thinking of her family wealth, Clarke seeing his wince and facial expression, sighed.

 

“I work at the gallery where my show’s going to be. When I’m working I’m allowed to charge any food I order to the gallery. Despite the fact it’s my show, I’m doing the set up, work and advertisement for it all. Which is what I’m doing today, so the gallery can pay.”

 

Throughout her explanation, Clarke kept her eyes forward. Her tone was stiff and she refused to look at him. Bellamy processed the information, knowing she worked at a gallery, he gladly accepted the information and nodded his head. Preferring to bypass the awkward moment between them, unfortunately it meant the walk back to the gallery was quieter then their walk to the restaurant.

 

But once inside, Clarke seemed to make a decision to ignore the moment and while setting them up in the back room on a table, she started asking Bellamy about his thesis paper. The topic quickly relaxed Bellamy and Clarke forced him to sit, while she placed their food on plates. She laid everything in front of them, letting him sit while she moved around the room. After she was seated in front of him, they both began to eat.

 

Clarke let him continue to talk about his thesis paper, long past the point that anyone else would have told him to shut up or changed the topic. Most people quickly became bored with his theories about ancient mythology, Bellamy would have assumed she was using it as a defense to ensure they didn’t delve into any deeper conversation topics, but she seemed genuinely interested.

 

It was only when they were finished with lunch that Bellamy realized just how long he had been speaking for, chuckling softly and scratching at the back of his head.

“Anyway…” Bellamy looked around the room, “what made you want to become an artist?”

 

Clarke shrugged her shoulders, “I always loved drawing, I told my parents when I was five I was going to be an artist.”

 

Clarke was looking down at her plate, a small smile playing on her face. It made Bellamy smile in response; her eyes sparkled when she spoke. “What did they say about that?”

 

“Well, my dad loved it. Thought it was a great idea, but…”

Clarke sentence trailed off, and Bellamy knew they were standing on a fine line, talking about her family, more so talking about her mom.

 

“And your mom?”

 

Clarke bit her lip, the sparkle in her eyes, not quite as bright. “Hated it. ‘Art is a hobby Clarke, not a career.’”  
  
Bellamy chuckled at the distinct change in her voice, when she intimated her mother, clearly taking on a more snobbish tilt. “She said that?”

 

“Yer,” Clarke snorted, “to a five year old.”

 

“But you did it anyway?” Bellamy kept his voice soft, but it didn’t stop the small amount of pride he felt at her defiance appearing in his voice.

 

“Hmm, yer. I did well in school, even with all the trouble I got into after I met John. Got accepted into some colleges for pre-med but quickly realized it wasn’t me.” Clarke shrugged her shoulders, dismissing what she’d said.

 

Bellamy knew this, “Yer I remember you saying something about pre-med the first time we hung out, how come you decided to start the degree, if it wasn’t what you wanted.”

 

Clarke looked away then, she seemed to struggle to find the right words to explain. “My dad died when I was nine.”

 

Bellamy grimaced when he remembered what he’d said about the ‘ _princess running home to mommy and daddy’_ “Clarke, I’m so-“

 

“Don’t stress Bellamy, it was years ago. But my mom and me, we never really clicked. My dad was kinda the glue that kept us together, she got remarried about a year after.” Clarke shuttered and Bellamy’s was about to ask her about it, when Clarke began speaking again. “Anyway, a lot happened and after everything, I thought maybe I could make the first step to fixing our relationship.”

 

“So you decided to go into pre-med to make your mom happy?” Bellamy knew his voice was slightly critical and he tried to reduce the reaction in his voice.

 

“It’s stupid I know, but it worked.” Clarke’s voice was quiet, “for a while anyway. Then she just started finding other things she thought I needed to fix or change in my life.”

 

“What made you leave then?”

 

Clarke’s face was thoughtful and then angry, thinking about the previous memory. “She got it in her head, that since I gave in about the pre-med thing, I’d give in about John.”

 

“John?” Bellamy voice tilted at the odd use of his first name.

 

Clarke smiled then, it was big and real and Bellamy’s stomach fluttered in response “Oh yer, she hates him. Hated it even more when I refused to cut him out of my life. But absolutely loathed him when he convinced me to drop out.”

 

“Murphy convinced you to dropout?” Bellamy continued to try to understand the relationship between Murphy and Clarke.

 

“More like just out right told me that I was miserable and to do something about it. So I did. I considered changing majors to art, but it seemed kind of pointless when I just wanted to get out there and start doing it. I felt like the longer I delayed it the more I was just going to come up with excuses to not do it.”

 

“So you got a job in a gallery and work on your own art?”

“Yer, it’s perfect. This isn’t the first gallery I’ve worked in, took me a while, but I have a good eye and its helped me move up in the art world. Besides I get to spend my days surrounded by artist and artwork and have plenty of time to work on my own. It doesn’t make my mom happy, but I am and I figure that’s better then nothing.”

 

Bellamy let the conversation settle, but he couldn’t stop the nagging in his head. The need to understand her relationship with Murphy, “how did you and Murphy meet? You go to school together?”

 

Clarke’s laugh was loud and resonated throughout the room, “no, ahh not at all.”

 

Clarke didn’t say any more, but her statement only made Bellamy more curious. His eyes clearly begging for more information, after what seemed forever Clarke cracked a small smile. “My mom moved us to New York when I was 17, for a ‘fresh start’.” Clarke rolled her eyes, “and in response I got drunk and stole her car.”

 

Bellamy almost swallowed his tongue, “what?!”

 

“I ended up getting arrested and getting community service and was required to attend a support group for troubled teens, I met John there.”

 

Bellamy attempted to process the information as quickly as possibly, “and what… you bonded there?”

 

“Hell no. John hated me. Thought I was an entitled princess.” Bellamy’s head snapped up, “that’s right your not the first to call me that.”

 

He would have shuttered at the statement, but Clarke was smiling, clearly making light of the previous argument between them. But Bellamy was mostly confused, he knew what Murphy was like when he truly disliked someone, it was normally everlasting. “Then, what changed?”

 

“John was 19, a huge asshole and always ready for a fight. We got into it one night after a group session, he wouldn’t let up about the princess thing. He ended up making me a deal, survive a night in his world and he’d leave me alone.”

 

“And you survived?”

 

“Yer, he took me to this real scummy club with all his ‘friends,’ thought I’d get scared and leave. But we ended up getting plastered and we had fun. Anyway, John took me back to his place.” Clarke took the opportunity to take a drink and Bellamy’s mind begun to wander. “It’s not what you think. I mean, it could have been, but we ended up having this huge heart to heart and then, John just kinda took me under his wing.”

 

Bellamy was tempted to ask about the conversation that changed everything, but sensed it was a very private matter between the two of them. Instead choosing to focus on what he hoped would be a lighter topic, “I bet your mom loved that.”

 

Clarke grinned brightly, “You should have seen the first time John came to my house, my mom nearly died right there. You think John looks scary now, you should have seen him at 19.”

 

Bellamy grinned too, imagining exactly what Senator Griffin would look like in her big mansion, watching her 17 year old daughter come in the door with a 19 year old Murphy. The conversation dropped off but Clarke was biting at her bottom lip, she looked like there was something else she wanted to say. But she required some prodding; Bellamy knocked his leg into hers. “What?”

 

Clarke’s eyes flicked over his face, seemingly gauging what she saw before she spoke. “I don’t talk to her anymore, you know.” She swallowed thickly, “my mom, I mean.”

 

“Oh,” Bellamy struggled to think about how to respond to the statement.

 

However Clarke seemed ready to move on, smiling tightly and changing the topic. “What about you Bellamy, what made you want to major in ancient mythology and classical studies?”

 

“My mom,” he figured after everything Clarke had shared, he could share this. ”My dad wasn’t in the picture, so it was just me and my mom. She didn’t have a lot of time, and we didn’t have a lot of money. But when she could, she would buy me books about myths. Never the kid ones, always the original myths. I read them all the time, it was our connection. After Octavia was born, I used to read them to her. When I finally got the chance to go to University, it was the only thing I ever wanted to study.”

 

Clarke smiled as he spoke, “you’re the one who named Octavia, aren’t you?”

 

He smiled at the memory, “Yer” Bellamy then went onto describe the day his little sister was born, it was clear from the way he spoke that he was extremely fond of memory and his little sister.

 

“I’m glad you guys are friends.” The change in topic clearly confused Clarke, “you and Octavia. Thank you for that.”

 

“It’s not hard Bellamy,” Clarke’s eye crinkled at his statement, “Octavia is wonderful, a handful. But great.”

 

Bellamy was about to speak, when Clarke’s phone dinged, indicating a message. She read it carefully, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “John’s here,” she waved her hand towards the door. “I should go let him in.”

 

He nodded realizing that their time together was over, she was walking out into the main section of the gallery. Bellamy not far behind, but just before she reached the door, he grabbed at her arm. “Thank you, for today.” He hoped that the statement made it clear, that he was thanking her for much more then lunch.

 

When Clarke smile and squeezed his hand, he knew she understood. “I had fun, we should do it again.” Bellamy quickly nodded, trying to keep his face neutral. “But for now, I should really open the door before John decides to just break in.”

 

-&-

 

Murphy observed Bellamy when Clarke finally opened the door, watching the way his eyes trailed after Clarke the entire time she moved. She was ushering him inside the gallery, she gave him a quick hug before turning to Bellamy.

 

“Thanks Bellamy.” Clarke leaned in to give Bellamy a tight hug, before steering him towards and out the door. After he was gone, Murphy made sure that Clarke caught his look.

 

“You two, getting close?”

 

Clarke rolled her eyes, punching slightly at Murphy’s arm. He swung his arm up and around Clarke, “jealous that you’re not my only friend?”

 

Grunting at her statement, “no. Just protective.” Murphy was strangely sincere and Clarke took note.

 

“I don’t need protection, John.”

 

“You said the same thing about Finn, but something obviously went down with prince pretty boy."

 

“Yer he cheated on me. Is that what you wanted to hear? That I was wrong, that you were right?”

 

Murphy sneered, “I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m always down for you telling me I was right.” Murphy tightened his arm that still held onto to Clarke, “but right now, I’ll settle for you telling me you’ll be careful.” Clarke turned to face him directly, “with everything going on right now, I don’t want you getting into something that’s gonna get you hurt.”

 

Clarke tugged at Murphy’s neck, pulling him down. Once she had her arms wrapped tight around him, she whispered in his neck. “I’ll be careful.”

 

Letting the moment pass, Murphy shrugged out of her arms. “Come on, show me this painting.”

 

As they walking towards the backroom, Murphy settled his arm around her shoulder again, “so um, where did you say pretty boy lived again?”

 

Clarke laughed at his question, slapping him lightly on the chest as they walked. “You don’t need to know.”

 

“I think I own the cheating bastard a visit. I haven’t seen him in a while, maybe I miss him.” He made sure that Clarke caught his look, the implication clear on his face.

 

“I bet you do.”

 

Clarke moved towards the back wall in the room, pulling at a sheet that covered a large canvas. It was twice her size, in both length and width, and Murphy smirked when she struggled to pull the sheet off. Murphy moved forward to help in the process, as the sheet fell to the floor it drew his attention. Murphy took in the painting, starting from the bottom. The image was distorted at this angle and he was forced to take a step back to take it in, the painting she had created was overwhelming, devastating and without a doubt, showed the world everything Murphy was.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the wait :/ I got quite side tracked with my College assignments. Which you know, is somewhat important, so I had no choice but to do them.
> 
> Anyway, here's the next chapter. As always thank you so much for the comments, kudos, subscriptions and bookmarks. It means so much to me. Let me know what you think in the comments!

Shadowed in twirls of red and orange the colours obscured the image of his body, his chest bare aside from the scattering of scars and bruises that covered his chest. The bruises were old and yellowing, almost hidden by the colours that swirled around the canvas. But when the viewers noticed them, they looked fierce and aggressive running across the wide expanse of his bare chest. His body looked tense, but his arms were spread wide, as if protecting something or someone behind him. But it was the eyes that shocked him to his core; they showed someone whom was broken and scared, but there was a small but intense fire beginning to burn within them. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up; goosebumps rising on his arms.   


Murphy could sense Clarke next to him, her nervous energy running off her in waves. Almost making Murphy shake for her, he wanted to reassure her, say something… anything. But his gaze was glued to the canvas, his own stare looking right back at him, the eyes dark and fierce, but completely broken.

 

Looking at the canvas, the protective stance and marks on his chest made him look strong and resilient. Murphy had never seen himself look so strong and yet so weak at the same time. Watching the small flicker of fire in his eyes, he realized it was hope, made him wander if that flicker, that fire she painted was always in his eyes. Or if the broken and damaged look the painting showed was all that anyone saw, instead mistaking the look for anger and hate. It made him wander if Clarke was the only one to see the truth.

 

Scratching at the back of his neck, Murphy found himself unnerved by the painting. A little scared of what it showed, it was beautifully made but intimidating. Murphy found himself stepping away from the painting, yet still unwilling to tear his gaze from the painting. Murphy nearly jumped at the hands on his arm, knowing it was Clarke he relaxed under her hands. They were soft, rubbing at his skin gently. Attempting to calm him down as much as possible, when Clarke made to speak, Murphy tugged harshly at her hand. Yanking her around and into his arms, his breathing harsh as he held Clarke tight inside his arms. Hiding his eyes from her own overly perceptive looks, afraid of what else she would see his eyes.

 

-&-

 

Clarke let John hold her, each of them just standing frozen in the others arm. Clarke felt the nervous jittery feeling racking her body with shakes, but John’s grip only grew tighter when she tried to pull herself away to read his eyes and judge his feeling towards the image. They stood in the same stance until her back ached from the arch her back was forced to take in the circle of his arms, when she begun to pull back from the embrace John’s arms and body followed her movement. Trying to keep her in his embrace until she was out of his reach and was forced to let her go.

 

“I…” Clarke failed to find the right words, John’s eyes staring just over her shoulder. Letting out a stiff laugh, Clarke pulled at the hem of her shirt, “I seem to have the habit of leaving the inspirations for my paintings speechless, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing.”

 

John’s hand lifted to tug at the hair on her face, before pushing it gently behind her ear. “It’s, umm me.”

 

Clarke let herself smirk slightly, the left side of her mouth lifting upwards. “Well considering you are the inspiration for the painting, yes I think it’s safe to assume that you are the man in the painting.”

 

Giggling slightly when John leant forward to push his fingers into the skin at the corner of her mouth, forcing the slight smirk to fall. “We could burn it?” The comment was soft and there was a tinge of humor in her voice, but they both knew she was serious if he needed her to be.

 

John sneered, drawing his eyes downwards to face Clarke head on. “We could. But I mean come on, we’d have to buy gasoline and matches and I mean who shouts that. You or me?”

 

“Well, I would assume you would. You know I’ve read your police record. I’m pretty sure there was at least one count of arson in there.”

 

“Yer, but I mean that was years ago. I’ve grown since then, I’m a mature, law abiding citizen now. I also know that having arson in my record, means buying those supplies might look suspicious.”

 

“But the fuel containers are so heavy and I’m just a petite little girl,” Clarke made a point of lifting her arm to showcase her lack of muscle.

 

John’s hand shot out to flick at the muscle, “Pathetic,” heaving a huge sigh John shook his head. “Guess we’ll just have to keep it in the art show.”

 

“Guess that is the only option,” Clarke let her eyes run over his face, when her eyes finally found his, she held them in her gaze. “You sure?”

 

John’s voice was soft and affectionate when he responded, “Yes. I mean honestly… I like it.” The soft stutter in his voice seemed to indicate otherwise, but the continual sneer let her know that he wasn’t extremely offended by it.

 

As she was locking the gallery door, John threw his arm over Clarke’s shoulders, “Your place?”

 

An older man was walking by as they spoke; he leered at the couple. His eyes running over Clarke, before turning to offer John a congratulatory smirk, it made Clarke shutter and think of another man who used to look at her like that. John feeling her response to him turned to storm off to confront the man. But Clarke’s arms had wrapped around his waist, a silent plea in her eyes to just let it go and put as much space between the two of them.

 

The look on his face was careful and while his sneer scared others, it was that particular careful look that frightened Clarke.

 

Back at her apartment, it was quiet; Lincoln had left a note on the kitchen bench stating he would be out for the night. It made Clarke smile; Lincoln could be extremely withdrawn and reserved at times, so it was nice to know that he was at least trying to be out there. But unfortunately it meant that Clarke had no one to hide behind, and John still had the careful expression on his face.

 

“When’s he released?”

 

“God John, you couldn’t even ease into it?”

 

“Well you always manage to get out of answering when I’m subtle, and I’ve waited long enough so I figure I should just get straight to the point.”

 

Clarke’s hand wrung out and fiddled with a tea towel she found on the bench, “it’s funny that you think you were ever ‘ _subtle’.”_

 

“It’s funny that you think your distracting me right now,” John moved around the bench to lean against it while he stood closely beside Clarke.

 

Clarke turned around to lean as he did, “Friday.”

 

“This Friday? The day before your Art show?” John tried to keep his voice even, but the tightness in his throat was clear for everyone to hear.

 

“Yep, after 4 years and 7 months, Cage is being released.” Clarke made to move around the kitchen, opening and shutting doors just to be able to do something with her hands.

 

John resisted the huge to follow her around the kitchen, giving her the small amount of space he could offer in the situation. “What does that mean for you?”

 

“Nothing really,” the broken note in her tone was obvious. “He won’t be able to leave the state, his stuck in the small town of Arkadia until his parole is over. Which is something like 25 years,” Clarke snorted before continuing, “as if a longer parole makes up for the lack time served.”

 

John made to grab her arm, when she moved past, just pulling back out of his reach. “He gets to run home to daddy, who lets him pick up right where he left off. Working with daddy for a ridiculous 8-figure salary, mansion and pretend that what he did to me either doesn’t matter or didn’t even happen.”

 

“Clarke-“ John pushed himself away from the bench, forcing Clarke to look at him. “Hey, it’s okay-“

 

“No, John. It’s really not.”

 

“I didn’t mean what he did was okay, or the fact that his now free is okay. I meant that you will be okay.”

 

Tears were welling up in Clarke’s eyes, fluttering down her face when she attempted to blink them away. Left in an awkward standoff, each of them seeming to hold their next breath, “how are you so okay with knowing the person who molested you is free and out there? “  


“I’m not and you know it.”

When Clarke made to speak again, John interrupted her. “I refuse to let the man who ruined my childhood, ruin my life now. You have something good in your life right now; you have an amazing talent, great friends and your happy. Don’t make yourself miserable over this; I would give anything in the world to …” John’s hands turned to fists, his face angry and his eyes squeezed shut. “But you don’t always get to have things your way. But we do get to decide where we go from here, you told me that once.”

 

“I was drunk when I said that,” Clarke voice became soft and there was a slight whine to her tone.

 

“Well, you say the best things when you’re drunk. Honestly, I think you should never be sober.”

 

“Advocating alcoholism, that’s the John Murphy I know.”

 

“I am a bartender, I have to make sure that my paycheck is constant and the tip jar is full.”

 

“I’ve seen you bartend, I wouldn’t tip you.”

 

Clarke could see the twitch in his arm, John denied it whenever she brought it up. But he was overly tactile when he trusted someone; behind the constant sneer was the John Clarke knew. The one she created on the canvas for everyone else to catch a glimpse of, sensitive enough to know she needed to talk about this with someone. But he also knew that based on the character topic, she may not be in the mood to be touched right now.

 

Rubbing at the back of his neck, he awkwardly stepped from side to side, “should we talk about anything else?”

 

Snorting loudly Clarke nearly tripped over her words, “Like what? My mother’s response to her ex-husbands release from prison?”

 

John’s eyes widened slightly, “you’re talking to your mom now?”

 

“Thankfully, no. But she did manage to send a wonderfully written email, which _reminded_ me that my name was excluded from the case file and as a Senator reminding the public that her ex-husband was a convicted criminal who molested her daughter without her knowing, doesn’t look good to the public.”

 

“She said that?”

“It was phrased quite a bit nicer then that, but I’m sure in her own twisted way she meant well.”

 

“Of course she did,” John’s eyes looked as if they could almost roll out of his head, “did you reply?”

 

“Yes.” Clarke face twisted into a small smile,

“Mom,

John Murphy says ‘hi,’ hope all is well.

Clarke.”

 

The smile grew as Clarke spoke each line; it made John smile gently in response. “So, I’m a foot cushion and a way to annoy your mother. Do you actually like me?”

 

“No, but you do have access to alcohol and that’s probably as close as you’ll get from me.”

 

“That is why most people chose to talk to me.”

 

Clarke leant her head against John’s chest, “we should get dinner and hang out tonight.”  


“hmm, in this hypothetical dinner situation, am I serving as the foot cushion?”

 

“Not just the foot cushion, your also buying dinner too. So I guess that makes you chef too, or is it waiter because your bringing me the food? Either way, you’re buying?”

 

“I am?”

 

“You are!”

 

-&-

 

Bellamy isn’t the kind of guy who walks around the house mindlessly whistling over a girl, but before Clarke he would have also said he wasn’t exactly a relationship kind of man. He preferred casual flings, or one night stands, his life was too complicated and busy to fit a relationship in his life. But Clarke would be worth it; he could make time for Clarke. Besides Octavia was out of home, most of her College expenses were covered by financial aid and a partial scholarship. The savings he had gathered and had originally put aside for Octavia’s College covered most of his grad work, so Bellamy could afford to reduce his schedule and work shifts. He could do that for Clarke.

 

So he decided that although it was Sunday night, that their little group should have a ‘family dinner.’ He’d already text everyone and was extremely hopeful about how the night could go.

 

Miller eyed him carefully when they collided in the kitchen, “enjoy your time with Clarke today?”

 

Bellamy hoped the blush wasn’t visible through his dark completion, and instead chose to change the subject. “So, dinner tonight? Did you get my text?”

 

Bellamy nearly swallowed his tongue when he noticed Miller’s footsteps fault, smiling gently at his slight fall.

“I actually have plans tonight.”

 

“You do?”

 

“Yes, with Monty.”

 

Bellamy was ready with a comment on the tip of his tongue, but Miller had already stormed off. Telling Bellamy to ‘fuck off,’ while he slammed his bedroom door.

 

His phone dinged, and while Bellamy still chuckled at Miller obvious excitement, it quickly evaporated when the message from Octavia indicated she already had dinner plans. While walking between the kitchen and the living room, Bellamy received another message, this time from Clarke.

 

_Hey, Thanks for the invite but John and me are gonna have a night to ourselves._

_Had heaps of fun today, we’ll organize something later in the week!!_ _xx_

Well there goes that plan, sitting on the couch Bellamy reread Clarke’s text. A few words sticking out to him, ‘John and me…’ ‘night to ourselves.’

 

While Bellamy might want something more between him and Clarke, Bellamy forgot one major thing; that Clarke may not feel the same.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to take the time to thank everyone for their continual support and the comments/kudos/bookmarks and subscriptions. You honestly have no idea how much it means to me!

By Thursday, Miller had grown extremely tired of hearing about Clarke Griffin, he’d grown to like her and enjoy her company, but if he had to listen to Bellamy drone on and on about her anymore, he might have to kill her just to get some peace.

 

Miller frowned at the idea, scratching at the back of his head, that would only make Bellamy more pathetic and sad and probably more inclined to talking (see; whining). A dead love might require more whining and talking then an unrequited love.

 

Okay so, he wouldn’t kill her. Being Bellamy’s friend really could be a difficult task.

 

Bellamy was currently fretting around the living, placing blankets and pillows throughout the room, there were a variety of snacks and drinks set out on the table and he was muttering to himself.

 

“Bellamy, Bellamy-“ Miller watch as he continued to run around the room, shifting things from place to place, “Bellamy!” When he stopped dead to look at Miller, he couldn’t help but scoff at his stunned face.

 

Looking extremely confused and slightly annoyed, Bellamy responded “what?”

 

“What ‘what’? You’ve been running around the living room for the last 40 minutes, we’ve had these family nights, every Thursday for agers. Why are you suddenly so nervous about how it goes?” Miller was aware that there was a smirk on his face, and he quite liked it.

 

Bellamy seemed to be thinking the question over, and clicking his jaw at the same time. Miller could admit that it amused him, if he had to listen to Bellamy constantly whine, he deserved to watch him squirm too. Besides when Miller was able unnerving Bellamy, he could safely say it was one of his favorite past-time activities. “You know why Miller.”

 

Then he left the room, to order dinner, Miller sneered when he heard Bellamy specify over the phone that dinner needed to arrive at exactly 7:20PM. God help the delivery guy, if he was more then a minute late.

 

When he finally came back into the room, Bellamy stood at the edge of the room, assessing it for anything he needed to change. Finally he turned back to face Miller head on, “I tried to see her a few times this week and every time she’s been too busy.”

 

“Well, from what I’ve heard that seems pretty standard for someone about to have an Art Show.”

 

Bellamy’s face scrunched up, “Yes, but she’s seen Murphy _every_ day.”

 

“I can’t believe we are having this conversation _again!”_

 

“I just mean she can’t be that busy, if she’s-“

 

“Bellamy, Murphy doesn’t work throughout the day, he visits her at work. You know, when you’re at work or TA-ing or doing grad-work. She’s not ignoring you; her schedule just doesn’t quite work out with yours at the moment. She’s said it, now I’m saying; she’s busy with work for her Art Show right now, once this week is over, you’ll be able to see each other more.”

 

“She managed to make time for tonight- “

 

“God Bellamy! If this is what your like when your friends, then if you ever end up dating her I’m moving out. I can only handle so much whining and talking.”

 

Miller stormed off before Bellamy could reply, refusing to exit his room until the others arrived. Miller sincerely hoped that Monty arrived soon; perhaps kicking ass at Mario Kart would help him forget the constant whining he’d had to endure from Bellamy.

 

(It would be nice to see Monty too).

 

-&-

 

Murphy opened the door for Clarke, they were running late for the standard Thursday family night gathering. Murphy had tried to convince Clarke that they didn’t need to go, but after multiple texts from Octavia, it was very clear to the both of them if they didn’t show up, then the others just might show up at Clarke’s apartment. Octavia had stated that she was willing to move the gathering if it guaranteed Clarke’s attendance. Personally, Murphy thought that her willingness to move the gathering had more to do with the mooneyes that baby Blake would throw at Clarke’s roommate.

 

When they entered, everyone jumped to greet them. After Octavia’s almost bone crashing hug with Clarke she stepped back and smiled at Murphy, it was a little disconcerting to see the smile actually reach her eyes, so Murphy attempted as best he could to return the smile and hoped it didn’t come out too much like a sarcastic sneer.

 

Behind Octavia was Bellamy with an anxious smile on his face, but his eyes were lit up when he made eye contact with Clarke and Murphy noticed straight away when he was about to lean down for a hug with Clarke. Murphy jumped in before he could, “Hey sorry we’re late, you guys go back to your movie, me and Clarke are just gonna get some drinks and then we’ll be right in.”

 

The others were in the middle of standing up for hello’s but willingly sat back down, not noticing the terse edge to Murphy’s voice, or that Clarke was lightly shaking under the hand Bellamy had managed to place on her shoulder. Bellamy was looking intently between his hand and Clarke’s lack of eye contact.

 

Clarke slipped out from under his hand, once inside the kitchen Murphy stood to the side while she leaned against the counter, quietly leaning around the corner of the kitchen to make sure no one was within hearing distance.

 

“You alright?”

 

“Hmm,” Clarke fidgeted with her hands.

 

Murphy leaned forward to push the hair out of her eyes, only for her to flinch backwards. Sighing loudly as he pulled his hand back, “you sure you wanna be here, right now? We can leave, or just hang out in my room.”

 

“No, it’s fine.” Clarke’s voice was soft and she mumbled her way through the response.

 

“Clarke, you look like shit.”

 

“Thanks, I attribute that to the recent lack of sleep and nightmares, it works for me, right?”

 

“Yer of course, the dark circles under your eyes really make them pop.”

 

“Thanks,” Clarke shuffled slightly closer, and Murphy stayed put scared that any movement could scare her away.

 

Despite the fact she’d buried herself in work and setting up at the gallery all week, Murphy knew that at nights she let her thoughts wander and she’d dream about her childhood. Even though logically they knew that Cage couldn’t hurt her, being so far away, it seemed his memory could still linger and that was painful enough.

 

“Are you working tomorrow night? I thought we could go get old-school drunk, pretend we’re kids again.”

 

Murphy shuttered at the thought of seeing her leave draped over some random guy again, or being pulled through an alleyway when she was barley able to function, while he just let it happen. “I can cancel work and we can hang out -“

 

“No, no, you need the money.” Clarke looked down, “ I’ll hang out with Lincoln, we’ll talk about art and the gallery, you know everything you hate.” Clarke ended the statement with a playful hint, but the emotion was lacking and Murphy once again felt like he was disappointing her.

 

“You and me? Tomorrow, all day. I’ll make you forget, without getting drunk.”

 

Clarke smiled slightly at that, “how are you gonna do that?”

 

“With my shining personality, of course.”

 

“Your ‘shining personality’? John, were you drinking when I wasn’t looking?”

 

“I’ll have you know, that many people have commented on my personality.”

 

Clarke eyes him critically, “Oh, I’m sure they have. But I doubt anyone has used the word; ‘shining’.”

 

Murphy turned, testing the water slightly, pushing his arm right up against hers. When she didn’t flinch away, he continued, “it may have been ‘shitty’, but you know I work in a bar, it’s loud, sometimes I mishear things.”

 

There was a loud knock on the door, and then Octavia was yelling for them to hurry up because the food was here. But as Clarke was leaving the kitchen, she turned around to have the last word. “Is that the excuse you use when you get your drink orders wrong in the bar?”

 

It wasn’t one of her most biting comments but it made Clarke smile and that made Murphy smile, so at least that was something. Hopefully tonight would help Clarke forget, even if just for a moment, that tomorrow was coming.

 

-&-

 

Bellamy had attempted to grab Clarke’s attention during the night, but Murphy seemed to always be there. Standing right beside her throughout the _entire_ night, it was extremely frustrating. Bellamy had at first assumed that it was him, that Murphy had realized that Bellamy had feelings for Clarke, perhaps sparking the same realization about his own feelings.

 

But Bellamy soon noticed that he seemed to be hovering over Clarke, anytime _anyone_ got too close to her. It was worrying but even more so, when Bellamy noticed just how shocking she looked. He had at first passed it off, believing it to be the stress from her upcoming Art Show, but she was fidgety and recoiled anytime anyone got too close, even Murphy. It wasn’t long until Bellamy noticed that Murphy’s crowding of Clarke was protective and there was a tint in his eyes that screamed a warning at those who dared to get too close to Clarke.

 

Bellamy knew that there was more to their story then what Clarke had told him, as if their actions last night somehow further proved that to him. Bellamy understood privacy; he himself had his own story that he often refused to share with others. But Clarke was different, he wanted to share with her and he really wanted her to share with him. He could see the way she relied on Murphy and the way they supported each other, was it so wrong of him to want to help with that support, or at least be apart of it.

 

Looking at the two of them together, at times it felt like he was intruding on their personal moments, especially when they’d share secrete looks. Bellamy understood to a degree, him and Miller had their own secrete jokes and looks and him and Octavia often shared private looks between the two of them. But nothing quite like Murphy and Clarke did.

 

Friday mornings were normally Bellamy’s time, even if everyone did stay the night after their Thursday night gatherings. Bellamy was the only one who ever got up early on Fridays, so even though Bellamy had gotten used to Murphy rising at what could be considered a decent time since Clarke had come back into his life, seeing him at 8:30 in the morning was still very disturbing.

 

“Hey,” Murphy flicked his head back, the only indication that he’d even noticed Bellamy.

 

As he sat down to eat his breakfast, he spilt the milk over the side of the bowl and Bellamy used the opportunity to grab a towel to clean it up and took a seat, sitting down next to him.

 

When all he received was a tense look and a slightly confused expression in response he took the opportunity to lean forward, to guarantee he had Murphy’s attention. “I just wanted to talk to –“

 

“I don’t talk in the mornings.”

 

“Well, you honestly don’t talk much ever, but you’re rarely up in the mornings so I don’t have much reference to what you do or don’t do during that time.” Bellamy knew he was probably pushing it, but it was nice to be able to mock Murphy without risking a punch to the face, he’d been a lot nicer (well as nice as Murphy could be) since Clarke had started coming around.

 

“She likes you.”

 

“Excuse me?” Bellamy was confused by the change in topic, and surely he couldn’t mean Clarke.

 

“Clarke. She likes you. I can tell.” Murphy stood to walk towards the sink and run his bowl under water, to any outsiders it would look as if he was taking no part in the conversation.

 

Bellamy rubbed at the back of his neck, “oh, that’s good.”

 

“Yep. Conversation over?”

 

“Yes.” Murphy nodded at his answer and turned to leave the kitchen, “well no.”

 

Murphy groaned in response but dutiful turned to face him, “I don’t wanna do anything, if it would get in the way of you. Or hurt your friendship.”

 

“There’s nothing to get in the way of. We’re not like that.”

 

Bellamy figured that that could pretty much be the end of the conversation except that despite the very short and abrupt conversation, Bellamy didn’t feel as though he’d really gotten the go ahead for asking Clarke out.

 

“I get that there is nothing at the moment to get in the way of, but I’m asking if there _could_ be?” Bellamy knew he was treading on a thin line, but he’d prefer to deal with the issue now, before it became something more later, (if there was a later for him and Clarke).

 

Murphy rubbed at his face, groaning again. “Do you what the answer you’re looking for, or the real answer?”

 

“The real answer.”

 

-&-

 

Clarke was fluttering around the gallery, ensuring all her art pieces were in place.

 

She was well aware that her hands were shaking and she was slightly frantic, constantly checking her phone, for the time, for a text, for a voicemail, it was stupid. It wasn’t like she knew what time he was going to be released, and there was nothing to make her believe that his first action out of jail would be to call her. But that didn’t mean she could stop the feeling in her gut, it just felt like he would.

 

Which was stupid and gave her a sick feeling, deep in her stomach. It was instinctive and stupid, but she couldn’t help it.

 

Every so often Clarke would turn towards the door, eagerly checking for John, as soon as he was here, it would be okay.

 

He’d be a dick and rude and sarcastic and… just perfect. He’d probably get her so worked up about her Art Show tomorrow that she wouldn’t even think about Cage and his roaming hands and touches, or the way his voice would float across the room, when he’d whisper in her ear late at night.

 

Clarke screamed when the door slammed shut and then John was standing right in front of her, hands itching to pull her close but they stayed at his side. His eyes were roaming the area around them, “are you alright? I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

“Yer, just got stuck inside my own head.”

 

John smiled gently, “thinking things you shouldn’t?”

 

Clarke managed a soft smile for him, “always.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot apologise enough for the long wait, and I won't make excuses, although I have been extremely busy with College and work... but no excuses! I am so sorry.   
> Once again, Thank you to everyone who gave kudos, subscribed, bookmarked and commented, it means the world to me. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! As always, let me know what you think!

Clarke snorted and huffed while John followed her around the gallery, attempting to cover the small smile that threatened to overtake her face.

 

He’d spent most of the morning mocking her pieces of artwork, watching as she hung them around the walls of the gallery. Refusing to even help her hang them on the wall, which forced her to use a ladder when her small statue restricted what she could reach to hang. This of course only provided John with more material to mock. Clarke was forced to pull out the big guns.

 

“John, help me,” Clarke turned to face him. “Or I’ll call Lincoln.” The threat of her roommate was enough to have John stuttering and moving forward to hold the side of a canvas.

 

Clarke smiled when it looked like he was choking on his tongue. “Alright I’ll help.” As he moved to lift the corner of the painting for Clarke, he muttered under his breath, “but because I choose to. Not because you threatened me with the _grouch master 2000.”_

“Keep telling yourself that.”

 

As he helped her step down from the ladder, she grabbed onto his arm. “His really not that scary.”

 

John shook his head, moving forward to help lift up the next painting, “I’d don’t trust people that never smile.” Clarke didn’t realize how deeply she was laughing until John was back in front of her demanding her attention. Finally when Clarke managed to peel her eyes open, she was met with the image of John with his hands on his hips, only increasing the absurdity of the situation and their conversation.

 

When he reached forward to knock his fingers gently against her face, Clarke released a slight giggle, “John you never smile.”

 

“I smile _all_ the time.”

 

Clarke eyed him carefully, “I think you and everyone else on the planet might have very different ideas about what constitutes a smile.”

 

John reacted by awkwardly offering a smile, it looked more like a grimace, but it made Clarke snicker and when she reached up to flick her fingers against the corner of his lips, he relaxed slightly and she was met with a very small, but very real smile.

 

“Now that’s a smile.”

 

…

 

By 3 pm, Clarke had almost completely forgotten about what today was. It still nagged at the back of her mind, but John had pretty much kept her mind focused elsewhere, for the most part. Even so often when he’d see her drifting off, she’d find John jumping into her personal space with a stupid story or weird anecdote.

 

He’d even sat with her while Clarke made the final phone calls to caterers and the staff required for the show tomorrow. Of course he’d twirled himself around on the gallery owners office chair, while she’d made the calls. But the image of the stern and angry John Murphy, twirling himself around like a child had made her smile and Clarke could admit that considering what the day meant, overall it had been a pretty great day.

 

Clarke noticed John fidgeting while he dropped her off at her apartment door, his lips curling around words he couldn’t quite force out. Clarke let herself draw in a deep breath, “come on John, out with it.”

 

“It’s not too late,” John ran a hand through his hair. “I could call in sick, we could hang out here and get drunk.” Clarke glared at the smirk on his face, “old school style.”

 

“You know, Lincoln’s here.”   
  
John squirmed but Clarke could see slight humor in his eyes, “We’ll make it work.”

 

Clarke huffed slightly and pushed against his shoulder, “go to work loser. I know you’re in charge tonight and need to start early to set up.” Clarke stepped away from John and into her apartment, his steps echoing as he walked away from her. “GO. Be an adult and do your job.”

 

John turned but muttered under his breath, “It’s a stupid job.” His steps echoing down the hallway.

 

  
  
“Lincoln, you home?” Searching the main living area and noticing his slightly askew bedroom door, Clarke found that the apartment was empty, a small note on the kitchen bench explaining his absence. Well there goes that plan.

 

Clarke sat in the living room, the room mostly dark, curling her legs up to her chest and laying back against the couch. Hopefully she could just hold herself together, because if she could just get through the last few hours of the day, they day would be over and she could forget what the day even meant and be okay again.

 

At least, that was the plan.

 

-&-

 

Bellamy sat on the couch, his old laptop sitting on his lap. The stupid thing groaning as it begun to overheat, Bellamy ran his hand through the curls on his head tugging at the tight curls that collected at the back of his neck.

 

He was so focused on the words in front of him; Bellamy failed to notice Murphy until his face was right in front of his own. “What? What?”

 

Murphy’s left eyebrow raised and the look on face could kill puppies, (Bellamy shuttered at the image that caused, and Murphy noticed) Bellamy refused to back down.

 

“What are you doing tonight?”

Sitting back against the couch, Bellamy placed his laptop next to him. “Why Murphy you wanna hang out?” Bellamy tried to keep the disbelief out of his voice, aside from the standard Thursday night gathering, anytime spent with Murphy was mostly coincidental. He just sort of appeared when the Xbox turned on, or beer came out. Even when they went out, he just sort of appeared when they were leaving or he didn’t, nothing was ever outright planned.

 

“Don’t be stupid,” Murphy turned slightly pulling on his black shirt that clearly displayed the name of the bar he worked at, indicating just how stupid he believed Bellamy’s question was. “If your not doing anything, you should go see Clarke.” Murphy attempted to play of what he was saying, but Bellamy felt the tense undertone to his words.

 

Bellamy realized that he had leaned forward in his seat quite a bit, and Murphy noticed too.

 

Smirking slightly at Bellamy’s actions, “did she say she wanted to see me?”

 

“No, but I think she’d like to see you.”

 

“Why did she mention me?”  
  
“Come on Blake, we’re not in high school, don’t act like a 15 year old girl. Yes or no, you’re going?”

 

“I could go.”

 

Murphy nodded, turning to walk towards the door, “her roommate will probably be there.” Bellamy thought of the tall, tanned man he’d only seen a few times, before he spoke Murphy started again. “His useless, you could make her smile. They’ll just sit there, not even talking.” Murphy rolled his eyes, already walking out the door before Bellamy could even reply.

 

Once he was alone Bellamy sat in state of somewhat shock, sniffing as the corner of his shirt, and then he was running up the stairs and jumping into the shower. It was only after he was in the shower that he wandered about whether he should call or just go over, did Clarke know he was coming? Maybe Murphy would tell her.

 

Whatever happened, Bellamy was just looking forward to seeing Clarke.

 

-&-

 

Even Clarke knew how depressing the situation was, sitting along in a dark apartment, flicking channels, and playing some stupid game on her phone. She could call Murphy, but he’d already spent so much time with her lately and given up his entire day. She knew he’d been cancelling work for her, and he couldn’t afford to keep doing that.

 

Clarke could have told Lincoln she needed him and he would have come right home, in fact there were quite a few people Clarke could have called but it felt kind of pathetic to _need_ someone else to help her forget. It had been years since it happened, it shouldn’t even affect her this much anymore.

 

It’s not like Cage was going to show up at her door, nothing had changed from a couple weeks ago, before she even knew about his release.

 

Except that you know, he was free and walking around and could go anywhere and do anything…

 

The wild thoughts running through her head left her scared and caused her to conjure up images in her mind. So when the front door rattled, she was ashamed to admit she was startled and jumped from her position on the couch.

 

While walking to the door, Clarke flicked through her phone, noticing a text from John, the time stamp indicated that she received the message nearly 20 minutes ago. Clarke rolled her eyes and prayed that John wasn’t on the other side of the door, he’d give her shit for being along _and_ not replying to his message fast enough. Clarke smiled, she could practically hear the snide and condescending tone, it was a bit concerning that thought of his voice in those tones made her smile.

 

Instead Clarke opened the door to find Bellamy awkwardly shuffling from foot to foot, a timid smile settling onto his face. Now that was an image that Clarke could enjoy smiling about, “Umm Murphy mentioned you might wanna hang out?”

 

Clarke frowned at that, John had told Bellamy to come here.

At Clarke’s stony silence, Bellamy bend down to pick up the bag near his feet, “I bought food.”

 

Clarke softened at his awkward fidgeting and movements, “Come in.”

 

“Ahh, so when your annoyed, bring food. Good to know.” Bellamy placed the food on the kitchen bench, hoping to lighten the mood instead he turned to find Clarke with aggravated expression on her face.

 

“ _Murphy_ tell you that too?”

 

“No actually I came to that conclusion on my own. Was I mistaken? Should I take this food home and enjoy it All. By. Myself?” Bellamy clearly pronounced each word while he picked up the bag of food and made to move towards the door, when Clarke made no move to stop him. He changed course so he ended up standing in front of her, “alright you called my bluff.”   


Clarke couldn’t help but smile at his awkward stature and body language as he stood in front of her, when she finally spoke it was soft and quiet. “I just don’t want you to be here, if John’s forced you to come.”

 

“It may have been his idea, but trust me,” when Clarke’s eyes turned towards the floor, Bellamy gently tilted her face upwards to face his own. “No ones _forcing_ me to be here.”

 

She felt her cheeks flare up under the pressure of his hand, and her own eyes refused to drop from where Bellamy’s held her stare. A part of her wandered if they were stuck in this moment, but then Bellamy was once again awkwardly stuttering and fidgeting from foot to foot, his hand dropping from her face. Clarke’s ears were ringing and she had to shake her head to hear what he was trying to say.

 

“I got Chinese, I don’t know what you and Lincoln like so I got a bit of everything.”

 

“Hmm,” Bellamy smirked at her lack of words. “Yes! I mean. I love Chinese and Lincoln isn’t home.

 

Clarke smiled when Bellamy seemed nervous about that prospect, but there was a small glimmer in his eye that made Clarke’s heart flutter in response.

 

-&-

 

Bellamy was suddenly nervous at the thought of it being just the two of them. Aside from the gallery the other day, they hadn’t spent much time alone together and while Bellamy guessed he technically had Murphy’s permission to make a move with Clarke, it didn’t really feel right after what he’d told him.

 

When they were sitting on the couch, Clarke curled her legs under herself, flicking on the first movie she saw on Netflix. But she turned her body towards Bellamy clearly indicating where her attention truly laid. It was slightly awkward to begin with but then Clarke was smiling and it eased the tense knot in his stomach. “Are you ready for your art show tomorrow night?”

 

Clarke’s eyes lit up and her excitement only increased the excitement Bellamy felt just being with her. “Yes, I got everything set up today, so all I have to do tomorrow is show up and hopefully not faint.” Clarke froze and turned towards Bellamy to face him head on, “You’re still coming right?”

 

“Of course,” Bellamy nodded vigorously when his words were mumbled by the food in his mouth.

 

While Clarke continued to talk about her art pieces and the show tomorrow, Bellamy found himself in awe of her. Her words and depictions of the painting she spoke about incited a huge amount of enthusiasm in Bellamy. Based on the image she had created of him, he knew that everything she created would be amazing and he couldn’t wait to see the other pieces she had created.

 

When the conversation died down and the food was long gone, Bellamy found himself sunk downwards into the couch, while Clarke’s body leaned towards his own. Her head against his shoulder, the movie the only lighting in the darkened room, the different scenes causing flashes to run across Clarke’s face. Her emotions played clearly on her face, reacting to the film as they watched.

 

At some point she laughed and turned to see his reaction, when she noticed his lack of attention towards the film and instead his focus on her, she bit gently at the corner of her lip. Coyly looking down, Bellamy coughed to ease the moment and instead Clarke’s head jolted upwards.

 

“Bellamy.”

 

At the sound of his name softly passing through her lips, he leaped forward towards Clarke, capturing her lips within his own. Until they were crashing in towards each other, all teeth and lips, and tongues and then he was leaning further into Clarke, slowly lowering her backwards against the seat of the couch.

 

When his lips released hers, Bellamy let them instead travel down her jawline, slowly moving downwards from her neck. Once again the sound of his name, slowly releasing from her lips, shocked him to his core and Bellamy found himself pulling back without thinking about it.

 

Because even though he really didn’t want to think about Murphy right now, his words were echoing inside Bellamy’s head. Looking down at Clarke’s soft blue eyes, Bellamy could understand how he felt.

_There’s nothing there now, but if she ever wanted to…. I’d never say no._

Because the truth was, the only thing holding back Clarke and Murphy, was Clarke. Bellamy knew that Murphy would never say no if Clarke ever indicated she wanted something more.

 

Bellamy released Clarke from his arms, “I should go.” Bellamy grabbed his jacket, walking quickly towards the door, Clarke was stuttering and looked lost and so very small, engulfed in the large expanse of the couch.

 

Walking down the corridor, Bellamy muttered to himself about his stupidly and Murphy and found himself once again at a loss about Clarke and his feelings towards her, it was so much easier when he used to just hook up with random girls on the nights his friends would drag him out for a night out.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the amazing feedback and response to this story! Let me know what you think!

Lincoln opened the front door, to find the main room shrouded in darkness. The slight light from the TV flicking over the room, allowing enough light for Lincoln to make out that Clarke was currently curled into the corner of the couch.

 

Lincoln gently dropped his motorcycle helmet to the right of the front door, walking over to pull a blanket from the back of the couch to cover Clarke while she slept. Noticing the littering of packaging from take out left on the table next to the couch, Lincoln begun to quietly clean up.

 

He let the TV continue to play while he moved around the kitchen; listening to the movie Clarke had playing as he cleaned the few items left around the kitchen bench. Turning suddenly when the floor creaked, only to find Clarke wrapped in the blanket he placed on her, as she leaned against the doorway to the kitchen.

 

Smiling gently at him, Clarke raised an eyebrow, “how was your date with Octavia?”

 

Lincoln continued to carefully move around the kitchen, refusing to supply Clarke with an answer. “Come on Lincoln, I had a crappy night. Let me live vicariously through your forbidden relationship!”

 

“ _‘Forbidden relationship?’_ ” Lincoln leaned his body against the kitchen counter, waiting for an explanation.

 

“You’re the one being all secretive about your dates, I assume it has something to do with the fact you get all twitchy about the age gap.”

 

Lincoln made sure to lean further back into the counter, and keep his face as neutral as possible.

“That may be a factor.”

 

“It’s only 8 years, barely, she’s almost 20.”

  
  
“Your absolutely correct Clarke, because 7 years is perfectly acceptable.” His voice was dry, and there was a slight twitch in his left eye.

 

Clarke laughed gruffly, “Your making yourself out to be some creepy old predator, _trust_ me, that’s not what’s happening.”

 

Rubbing at his left shoulder with his right hand, Lincoln laughed stiffly. “You sure?”

 

“Lincoln, does Octavia want to go out with you?”

 

There was only a slight hesitation, “Yes.”

 

Clarke smiled gently, “I’m willing to bet she made the first move.” At Lincoln’s lack of auditory response, Clarke continued. “Lincoln, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were blushing!”

 

Lincoln refused to respond to _that_ statement.

 

Instead he moved past her, making sure to stare down at her when he left the kitchen.

 

Lincoln settled himself down against the back of the couch, only to have Clarke drop down next to him, the blanket still wrapped firmly around her waist. She faced him; her attention was focused on him and not the TV that had continued to play despite their absence. Resisting the urge to groan, Lincoln picked up the remote and begun flicking to find something he wanted to watch.

 

Snatching it from his hand, Lincoln was forced to turn and face Clarke. This time though Lincoln couldn’t stop the small twitch in his lips that indicated he was suppressing a smirk. “How was Bellamy?” 

 

At Clarke’s frown, Lincoln felt bad, “that crappy huh?”

 

Clarke looked thoughtful then, “You’re a guy, right?”

 

Making a point to look down at himself, Clarke nodded affirmatively and then continued.

 

“Alright so what does it mean when a guy kisses you and then just leaves?” Clarke’s eyes went a little hazing, “like a really, really good kiss, that makes it hard to think and your body ache…” Sitting up straight when she realized just what she was saying and to who Clarke quickly stopped, a deep red blush moving up her neck.

 

Letting her breathe for a moment, Lincoln struggled to find an appropriate answer. Instead he pulled the blanket across to cover them both, as they leaned back against the couch, both pretending to watch the TV, but each thinking about a Blake.

 

“I have no clue what that means.”

 

Clarke hummed softly at his answer and Lincoln realized he should probably find a topic that they were both more comfortable with. But falling short, Lincoln continued to simply watch the show they’d found on Netflix.

 

Luckily for him, although he greatly struggled with finding the right words at times, Clarke seemed to know exactly what they needed.

 

“Alcohol?”

 

-&-

 

Murphy had worked open until close at the bar and while he had certainly never hated his job, (he was in close distance with a shitload of alcohol- what more could a guy want?). His mind had been focused elsewhere throughout the night, and considering his notoriously low threshold for tolerance when it came to people. He’d snapped (more then once and at multiple customers), so he had decided to spent most of the night doing inventory out back, and working on roasters.

 

He’d text Clarke and gotten fidgety when it took her so long to reply, and then made a point of not texting her at all. Assuming Bellamy would be with her, Murphy didn’t want to get in the way. At least no more then his presence normally got in the way of all her relationships.

 

Finn had hated how close they were, frankly, so did every person Clarke had ever dated after they became friends. Murphy wouldn’t admit it, but he liked Bellamy, and Clarke liked him… and that’s what really mattered. As long as Clarke was happy, Murphy would do anything possible to make sure she stayed that way. If Bellamy helped with that, then Murphy promised himself that he would stay out of their way.

 

Bellamy had made it pretty clear how much he liked Clarke, and Murphy could tell she quite liked him.   
  
Falling into bed at almost 3 in the morning, Murphy found himself completely exhausted and yet entirely unable to find sleep. Finally at 8 o’clock in the morning, he’d given up, hearing the faint stirrings of people rising and moving in the kitchen.

 

Stumbling into the kitchen, Murphy was met with both Miller and Bellamy.

 

“Hmm.” Giving them a gruff morning hello.

 

Miller responded with a similar gruff reply, But Bellamy simply flicked his eyes upwards and then back down to the eggs he was currently cooking. It was a little odd, and as Murphy sat down at the kitchen counter he kept his eyes trained on Bellamy.

 

Noticing the way Bellamy continued to flick his eyes towards him, Murphy merely raised an eyebrow, letting him know that the looks were not going unnoticed.

 

“Umm, are you hungry Murphy?”

 

“I could eat.”

 

Murphy withheld the small smirk working its way onto his face at Bellamy’s nervous fidgeting, assuming it meant that last night had gone well. Perhaps Bellamy was just nervous about Murphy’s thoughts on that particular subject.

 

Ignoring the small sting that the thought of Bellamy and Clarke bought on, Murphy gave him a rough smirk, his left eyebrow twitching and a dark snicker sitting at the back of his throat. “How was Clarke?”

 

Miller picked up on Murphy’s tone and leaned against the kitchen counter next to him, so that they could both set their sights on Bellamy.

 

Bellamy turned then, shaking the pan that held their eggs.

 

When he refused to answer, Murphy frowned. He was watching him so carefully that he easily took note of the look Bellamy gave Miller and the slight flick of Bellamy’s head towards him.

“Come on Bellamy, I’m not a kid.” Murphy hoped the gruff note to his voice came of as angry and not as hurt.

 

“She’s good, we hung out and watched some TV.”

Bellamy’s attempt to brush off the conversation didn’t work.

 

“Yer, what else?” Murphy’s wiggled his eyebrows, the intention of what he was saying clear.

 

“Nothing, nothing else.”

 

“Nothing else?”  
  
“Nope, nothing at all.”

 

Miller made a show of looking at his watch and then headed out of the kitchen, his bedroom door slammed shut.

 

“Come on, Blake. If you don’t tell me Clarke will.” Bellamy shuttered at his words.

 

Murphy was standing then, moving forward to stand in front of Bellamy. Despite the height difference, Murphy managed to tower over him, Bellamy stooping under his mere presence. “What did you do?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“You already said that. Now tell me the truth.”

  
Bellamy sighed deeply, “Look, I know you said she likes me and I like her, I really do.” Bellamy tugged at his curls, running his hands through his hair. “But all I could think about was you.”

 

Murphy played off his words, “I’m flattered Blake, but honestly you’re not my type.”

 

“You know that's not what I meant.”

 

“Blake, I thought we were done with this conversation. Clarke doesn’t want to be with me. But she likes you and you like her, I’m not gonna sit at home and cry about it if you date.”

 

“It doesn’t matter now. I – ah, I kissed her and then ran. Talk about sending mixed signals.” Bellamy stepped from foot to foot.

 

“This is ridiculous, if you wanna date her, then date her, it won’t be an issue with me. But if you’re going to mess with her head like this-“ Leaning back towards Bellamy’s body, making sure to be as intimidating as possible. “Then we will have issues.”

 

Murphy stomped around Bellamy towards the stove, “now you’ve burnt my bloody eggs.” Stomping back to his room muttering about, “fucking useless Blake.”

 

-&-

 

Clarke smiled gently at her phone, Octavia had insisted on coming to her apartment to get ready. Claiming it was because she wanted to help Clarke get ready.

 

_Tonight is all about you Clarke._

_I’m going to pamper you and make you look all pretty._

_Catch a certain someone’s eye ;)_

The first message had her grinning from ear to ear; thinking about all the excuses Octavia would no doubt use throughout their time together to visit the apartment common area, and in turn, visit Lincoln. Who would no doubt spend the afternoon loitering around the living room, grasping at any chance he could to see Octavia. Despite his nonchalant attitude towards their relationship last night, Clarke had noticed the spark in his eye whenever Clarke bought her name up. Not to mention the twitch in his lips every so often, it was verging on a smile.

 

It was cute; almost cute enough to have Clarke forget about the no doubt awkward tension that would occur when she was forced to face Bellamy. Hence the tightness in her chest at the second text message on her screen.

 

Clarke had spent most of the night rolling from side to side and listening to the wind rustling outside her window. At least the thoughts of Bellamy had chased away the thoughts of Cage, at least for a little while. The few fleeting moments of sleep Clarke did manage to catch, left her drenched in a cold sweat and checking the lock on her bedroom door when she woke.

 

But in the light of day, Clarke had forced her attention to focus intently on her preparations for the gallery, refusing to think about Bellamy and Cage. Picking up her dress and making a few final calls, then she’d fluttered about the apartment, mostly annoying Lincoln. The text messages however only served to further remind her of Bellamy and his fast run from her apartment.

 

A harsh banging on her front door interrupted the silence, “come on bitch let me in!”

 

Walking to the front door, Clarke frowned when she opened it to find Raven, a smug look on her face. “Did you really have to call me a bitch?”

 

“I like to say it how it is.” Raven pushed her way into the apartment, giving Lincoln a sharp nod as she moved past him on her way to the couch.

 

“And you showed up in my apartment, unannounced for what reason? Aside to call me degrading names.”

 

Raven chucked her injured leg up onto the coffee table in front of her. “Griffin, bitch isn’t a degrading name, if I wanted to degrade you, you’d know it.”

 

Clarke sat down next to her, careful not to joust the couch too much and risk hurting her leg through the movement. ”Remind me. Why are we friends?”

 

“You had sex with my boyfriend.”

 

“I really wish wouldn’t say it like that.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry I always forget how repressed you are. You ‘made love’ to my boyfriend.” Having enough of Raven’s snide remarks, Clarke pushed hard against Raven’s shoulder, who in turn continued to snicker under her breath and laugh as Clarke’s face continued to get redder.

 

“Seriously, what do you want?”

 

“I need your help.”

 

“With what?”

 

“What do I wear tonight?” Raven looked a little nervous, and Clarke found herself a little in awe of the raw emotion on her face.

 

“Whatever is fine,” Clarke smiled gently. “It’s not a huge deal.”

 

“Clarke, deny it all you want. This is a huge deal, you’ve been working on this for months.” Raven continued to eye the room around her, refusing to make continuous eye contact with Clarke. “Besides, I don’t wanna stick out- at least any more then usual.”

 

Raven indicated with her head towards the brace around her leg.

 

“Raven-“

 

“Come on Griffin, what do I wear?”

 

Clarke relented, “it’s pretty formal, a dress would be good.”

 

“A dress?” Ravens’ eyes ran over the leg brace. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

 

“Raven, no one’s even going to notice your le-“  
  
Raven’s eyes rushed to face Clarke, “Oh please Griffin, like I care what anyone thinks of my leg. The issue is, I don’t own a damn dress.”

 

Clarke smiled, “I could help with that.”

 

“Yer?” Raven looked slightly nervous at Clarke’s smile.

 

“Octavia is coming over to help me get ready, I’m sure she’d have a dress you could wear.”

 

Raven snorted, “this is gonna be some stupid girly thing isn’t it?”

 

Clarke hoped she didn’t smile too wide, but Raven’s tense facial expression let her know she didn’t exceed as well as she thought.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... here goes nothing.
> 
> I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!! I am so extremely sorry for making you wait so long. I have an excuse, if you're willing to listen. See .. I've been away ..in Europe and only got back about a week ago. I tried really hard to update, but I was busy and struggled finding the time to actually write. I know boo hoo poor me went on a holiday. Theres not much I can say aside from sorry! 
> 
> But seriously to those who are returning after all this time. THANK YOU! you have no idea what that would mean to me. If I've lost you all.. bye :/ 
> 
> Anyway... let me know what you think of this chapter!

Murphy was well aware of the fact he probably looked quite creepy continually walking back and forth down the street.

But there was no way in hell he could actually go in _there._

Just wasn’t possible. Not even Murphy liked Clarke this much. He’d do pretty much anything for her, but this was a hell no. She really couldn’t expect him to actually do this. Nope. Nope. Nope.

 

Fuck it.

Murphy shook his head, resting his head forward until it laid against his chest.   


Alright.

I’m doing it.

 

Turning to face the problem head on, Murphy shook out his shoulders, quickly looking from side to side before rubbing at his face and striding forward.

 

As soon as Murphy was inside, the lights made his head buzz, his eyes stinging at the brightness.

 

Watching his surroundings, Murphy found himself sneering deeply at the man coming towards him. Then he forced himself to shake out his face, and relax.

 

“Is there anything I can help you with Sir?”

 

Murphy turned around to look at the items that surrounded them, using this as an excuse to reduce the awkward tension that was quickly rising. When Murphy finally turned to look back at the smiling face of the man offering help, he realized it might just be only him who felt the growing tension.

 

“Umm, I need a suit.”

 

The man gave him a patronizing smile, giving a quick look around the store, which was filled with a multitude of different styles and colours of suits. Before turning to give Murphy a smile, “and was there a particular colour or style you were looking for?”  
  
Murphy gulped loudly, silently in his head damning Clarke to the greatest depths hell and wishing that he knew exactly how to say no when Clarke asked him to do things.

 

-&-

 

Standing in front of the mirrors that surrounded him, Murphy turned from side to side, silently appraising the suit and how it looked on him. Before quickly shaking out his thoughts, his frustration beginning to mount, he begun muttering under his breath about “god damn monkey suits.”

 

“Sir, I also have a lovely black suit with a fine thread of blue running through the fabric, which if you’re unsure about the others, is very simple –“  


Murphy cut him off, opening the curtain between them. “No, I’m done. This is it. I’ll buy this one.”

 

The man simply nodded quickly at him, leaving him alone to change back into his own clothes.

 

Walking out of the store with his new suit hung gently over his arm, Murphy moved quickly down the street.

 

-&-

 

“I swear Griffin, the more time I spend with you the more convinced I become that you are slowly but surely trying to force me into committing suicide.”

 

Raven’s eyes ran across the large amount of dresses that now sat piled on top of Clarke’s bed. Turning towards Clarke to watch her facial expression, even she looked overwhelmed.

 

Clarke smiled softly at Raven; “she can’t have bought anymore then this … right?”

 

Clarke’s sentence finished with a tense, gruff and unsure note to her tone. It made Raven smile, slightly. At least until Octavia appeared again, this time carrying a large metal case and another bag. “Makeup,” she smiled while she spoke, answering their unspoken question.

 

Lincoln, whose bulky arms were overloaded with the remaining dresses that Octavia had bought with her, followed closely behind her.

 

While Octavia fluttered around the room, readying herself for her upcoming tasks, Raven turned grabbing Clarke’s arm. Gripped tightly in Raven’s hands, Clarke was forced to turn and face her.

 

“I will never forgive you for this.” Raven spoke slowly and with just enough malice that Clarke actually shook slightly beneath her hands.

 

Clarke’s eyes ran across the piles of clothes and makeup, “I don’t blame you.”

 

 

 

It was so, so, so much worse then Raven had assumed it would be. Raven had endured a lot in her life, a mother that hated her and basically ignored her existence; having to work herself through school, to gain a scholarship and her time in the military, she’d lived through the loss of the man she considered her soulmate and still came out on top.

 

But this might just be too much for her.

 

Nothing Raven had been forced to endure was as bad as this. Nothing.

 

She was dead on her feet; Octavia had forced her into dress after dress. Having to see each and every dress on her before deciding which was perfect.  

 

“I’m definitely thinking that red is your colour-“  


“Prefect, I’ll wear the red one.” Raven leaned over Clarke’s bed to reach for the closest red fabric she could see, but before she could firmly wrap her hands around it Octavia pulled the dress from her grasp.

 

“Not this one. I said **_A_** red dress, but not this one.” Octavia’s face screwed up, her eyes moving in disbelief between Raven and the dress in her hands.  
  
Raven glared at the woman in front of her, “just give me **_A_** dress.”

 

“Well I’m-“

 

Raven held up her hand, “I’m getting in the shower, just put whatever one you choose on a hanger near the bathroom door for when I get out.”

 

While Octavia leaned over the bed, arranging the red dresses on the bed in front of her. She muttered about the fit, the shade of colour and fabric, Raven slid past Clarke.

 

“Whatever she picks. Can you make sure that it-“ Raven cut herself off, but the slight movement of her eyes towards her leg let Clarke know what she was asking.

 

When Clarke opened her mouth to speak, Raven walked off. Knowing that Clarke would abide by her wishes.

 

Raven walked towards the bathroom, through the main living room. Refusing to let her facial expression change until she was standing in front of the full-length mirror her eyes running along the brace on her left leg. The slight droop in her face, the only indication that she wasn’t entirely pleased with what she saw.

 

-&-

 

“What do you think?”

 

Clarke eyed the red dress with a critical eye, smiling when she noticed that Octavia had wisely chosen a floor length dress, made of lace the dress was tight fitted and flared closer to the floor, while it’s high neckline seemly too conservative for Raven until Clarke noticed that it ended with a halter neck and would leave Raven’s back completely bare.

 

“She’ll love it, won’t she?” Octavia looked so pleased with herself, proudly holding the dress up for Clarke’s inspection.

 

Clarke held her tongue, ready to make a quip about Raven not loving anything but her tools and gadgets. But Octavia looked so proud of her choice, and it would suit Raven too. Octavia’s smile was infectious, so Clarke simply smiled back. Then greatly regretted it when Octavia started throwing dresses at her.

 

-&-

 

 

Bellamy tugged at his tie; Miller slapped his hands away once again, if Miller’s face didn’t normally consist of a dark scowl Bellamy might actually be afraid of the one he was sporting now.

 

After he moved away from his neck and Bellamy’s chances of being choked were greatly decreased he quickly tugged at the necktie again, finding it too tight.

 

Miller’s deep cough captured his attention and Bellamy quickly removed his hand. “Should I even go?”

 

All he received in response was a dark look, although Miller was kind enough to accompany the look with a deep scoff.

 

“Yer I completely understand was you’re saying, it’s just what if she won’t talk to me?”

 

Miller stared at him intently, “then you probably deserve it.” Miller walked away after his statement, leaving Bellamy to think about his actions.

 

Despite the fact he was completely alone, Bellamy felt the need to respond. “Yer, you’re right.”

 

-&-

 

Smiling gently as she entered the gallery Clarke laughed when she remembered the look on Raven’s face when she’d told them that she was needed at the gallery an hour before the show started. Clarke had never seen sheer horror and fear on Raven’s face before, but the look she’d received after she’s spoken was probably as close as Clarke would ever see.

 

Clarke knew she was expected to arrive well before anyone else, something she was completely okay with but unfortunately it gave her the time to walk through the gallery and once again she found herself stopping in front of the one painting she was still unsure about.

 

Clarke had mostly avoided the portrait after she’d finished it. Hiding it away in the back depths of the gallery until the image had niggled at her mind for too long and she found herself pulling the painting out to have another look at what she had created.

 

It wasn’t beautiful by any means, if anything it was actually quite horrific.

 

Unlike the other portraits she had created, this one contained little colour, instead the image was filled with a multitude of dark lines and shadows. Each section of the image seemed to collapse upon one another, until the image was almost over overflowing with darkness. The painting was dark and murky; it was so dark that the shadows almost overshadowed the small figure that was crouched over in the center of the painting.

 

The petite body was clasping at her middle, the figure was mostly shrouded in darkness. She stood alone and naked in the blackness that surrounded her, Clarke frowned at the image. Fidgeting in her place, Clarke’s eye connected with the image once again. Her own blue irises connecting with the small figure’s own blue eyes within the painting; it was the only true bright colour to be found in the image.

 

Clarke wanted to tear it from its place on the wall, but knew she couldn’t. She couldn’t ask for her friends to bare everything they had, unless she too was willing to do the same.

 

 

“It’s a truly breathtaking painting.”

 

Clarke flinched at the voice behind her, ashamed to say that she had been unaware someone had even entered the gallery.

 

“Hmmm,” she hummed slightly as he moved closer, watching carefully as he eyed the paintings that lined the walls. “You’re here early.”

 

He turned to watch her carefully, “well, I couldn’t very well leave you here all by yourself.” He turned then, his hands clasped carefully behind his back, as he stood next to her.   
  
Clarke found herself smiling softly at his statute, although it didn’t radiate nervous energy it was clear he wasn’t quite comfortable. Obviously unsure about his choice to arrive at the gallery so early, before the art show begun.

 

“Thank you. For coming I mean and -” Clarke swallowed thickly, not used to being so forthcoming with her emotions. “And for believing in me.”

 

He gave her a side-glance then, a slight smile peaking just at the edge of his lips.

 

“I’m very proud of what you’ve achieved Clarke.” He turned to face her head on, stepping in front of the painting that had captivated them both.

 

“Furthermore, believing in you was one of the easiest things I’ve ever had to do. My only problem was getting you to believe that you could do it, and looking around here –“ He made a point of looking along the walls that surround them, “I think that you might finally believe in yourself too.”

 

Clarke flushed lightly at his words, unable to express what hearing them truly meant to her, especially from _him._ Instead she turned, forcing him to follow along behind her. “Let’s do some finishing touches, before the caterers get here.”

 

-&-

 

Murphy stood outside the gallery; the security had refused him entry before the art show had officially begun. He’d thought about making a scene, but worried that it would mean he’d be refused entry for the whole night. So instead he’d settled for the man crossing his name off the list and promising him entry as soon as it reached 7.30pm.

 

Instead he detracted himself with fidgeting on his phone, his thumb reaching towards the message app every so often. Before shaking himself and reminding himself that Clarke was busy, and coming outside just to let him in 30 minutes before everyone else was not a priority.

 

Besides he’d be the first in the door, he’d be able to find her straight away and congratulate her on work before anyone else, spend some time with her before she was pulled away by others that demanded her attention. No doubt her attention would be needed by those who actual knew something about art, by people who could help improve her standing within the art community.

 

Murphy glared at the ground beneath his feet, feeling stiff and awkward in his suit.

 

“Sir.”

 

Murphy frowned at the security guard, “yer?”

 

“You’re welcome to go in now.” Murphy attempted to provide the guy with a thankful glance, he wasn’t entirely sure he succeeded but Murphy was inside and it didn’t really matter anymore.

 

Looking up Murphy was met with Clarke, without really meaning to he felt his stance relax. He was immediately offered a flute of champagne by one of the waiters that stood near the entry; he took two and made his way towards Clarke.

 

Handing her one, he found himself amused at her facial expression, “nervous?”

 

Clarke glared at him playfully, although there was a slight edge to her appearance. “Not even a little a bit,” Clarke raised the flute towards her lips, but right as she made to take a sip Murphy pulled it from her hands.

 

“Then you don’t need this then.” Murphy made a point of taking a drink from her flute, watching from the corner of his eye when she glared at him.

 

“Just because I don’t need it, doesn’t mean I don’t want it.” Clarke snatched his own untouched drink from his other hand, carefully slipping from it.

 

Murphy took note of her now relaxed shoulders and puffed his chest out at the thought that he’d managed to help relax Clarke.

 

He thought vaguely about asking if she was okay, if the Cage thing was affecting her. But her face was crinkle free, and despite the nerves that still tinted her blue eyes, she looked … happy. And Murphy refused to let the likes of Cage ruin a night like tonight for Clarke.

 

Realizing that the empty gallery was quickly filling and the gallery owner was covertly signaling for Clarke, Murphy squeezed at her shoulder.

 

Before he could move too far Clarke was grabbing at his hand, her eyes quickly turning towards him, her eyes filled with worry. Murphy leaned down towards her ear, whispering quietly so only they could hear. “You can do this. I won’t be too far away if you need me.”

 

The reassurance seemed to be all she needed; Murphy watched her walk away, despite the nerves she’d just shown, her easy smile and quiet voice displayed a confidence that only Murphy knew wasn’t quite as strong as it might have looked from the outside.

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here's that next chapter!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has ever commented, gave kudos, bookmarked or subscribed to this story. It is amazing to see each and means so much more to me then you would ever know!  
> Hope to hear from you again, let me know what you think of this chapter!  
> xx

Clarke gripped at Kane’s offered arm, holding it as if were her only lifeline.

 

She was extremely thankful that he’d put so much faith in her tonight, but even more so that he’d made the effort to come early and help. It may have been his gallery, but he preferred to run it from the sidelines. Appear for the shows and disappear when he wasn’t needed there. It meant a lot more then Clarke would ever be able to put into words, so she tried to make sure that she looked sure of herself and happy when she finally stood at the entry of the gallery.

 

She ignored the internal struggle inside her head that was currently attempting to encourage her to retreat, to get as far from the gallery as was possible.

 

Clarke shook herself slightly, Kane noticed the movement and offered her a small positive glance from where he stood, which he companied with a squeeze to her arm before releasing her.

 

“Mr. and Mrs. Stephens, I’d like to introduce to Clarke Griffin.”

 

“Ahh Miss Griffin, I’ve heard a great many things about you from Marcus. He speaks very highly of your art and of course, of you.”

 

Clarke hoped the heat she felt on her face, wasn’t quite so obvious to the couple in front of her. Taking his offered hand Clarke gently smiled at them both before she responded, “I can only hope that I live up to the expectations that Marcus has set out for you.”

 

“Well, I’m positive that if you’ve managed to impress Marcus, then everyone else will simply be a breeze.”

 

Watching the couple move further into the gallery, Clarke’s eyes followed them as they stopped at the first painting. While she’d wished to watch them and attempt to judge their thoughts based on their faces, Kane’s arm once again knocked into hers in order to gain her attention and introduce her to the next guest.

 

Clarke was used to the process, having worked at the gallery for so long now. However, she normally stood just behind Kane. Ready and waiting to lead guests to certain paintings or towards drinks and food. What she wasn’t used to was being the center of attention for every guest that came in, Kane wanted her to be personally introduced to everyone that came in.

 

It made her extremely nervous, but she knew it was high praise coming from Kane. That it meant he had high expectations for tonight, and wanted to make sure that every guest had a face to go with the artist’s name.

 

But it was slightly overwhelming.

 

It was a welcome distraction when Octavia’s head popped in through the open door. “Finally a friendly face!”

 

“I hope you’re not talking about mine Griffin, I’m only here to judge you and eat food.”

Raven stood behind Octavia’s tall and slender figure, looking more gorgeous and way girlier then Clarke had ever seen before. “Wow-“

 

“Shut it Griffin, not one word.”

 

Clarke attempted to quell the smile forming on her face; instead turning slightly to face Kane whose gruff cough caught her attention.

 

“Clarke perhaps you could speak to your friends later.” The suggestion was polite and kind, but the expression left no room for negotiation and his gaze made her feel like she was a misbehaving child.

 

“Of course.” Clarke smiled at them waving them into the gallery, hoping Kane realized her snicker was at Octavia’s face pulling towards his words and not Kane himself.

 

Lincoln moved along behind the two women, he offered Clarke a tight hug and shook Kane’s hand, “is there anything you require me to do tonight?”

 

“No thank you Lincoln. Enjoy yourself.”

 

“Well, if there-“

 

Kane took the time to clap Lincoln on the back, “Enjoy yourself Lincoln.”

 

Lincoln seemed to take the instruction with slight apprehension, before nodding slightly and moving along to meet Raven and Octavia who stood just to the side to wait for him.

 

After they were gone Clarke couldn’t stop herself from releasing a deep sign, and once again Kane gave her a look. “We’re almost done Clarke.”

 

-&-

 

Miller tried not to smile at Bellamy’s fidgeting; every so often he would bring his wrist up towards his face. Squeezing his eyes tightly in the darkness of the cab so he was able to read the time, before giving Miller a look that clearly indicated his frustration at their lateness.

 

Not even a minute passed before Bellamy was once again raising his wrist towards his face, the routine once again starting. Miller waited patiently for the next look and 3..2..1.. there it is.

 

Miller was unable to do anything else but nod in agreement when Bellamy looked at him and then watch the whole routine start again and continue until they finally stopped just outside the gallery.

 

Upon arrival Bellamy basically bolted from the cab, leaving Miller to pay as he jogged up to the door of the gallery, not once even once glancing back at Miller.

 

He would have felt slightly nervous at having to enter by himself, if a hand hadn’t shot out to grab his arm.

 

“Monty.” The hand immediately retracted from the length of his arm, and a nervous look overtook his face as his eyes turned towards the ground.

“I um, well we-“ Monty turned to point at the skinny boy leaning against the wall, his hair hanging over his glazed eyes while he smirked at his best friend. “We thought we would wait to go in with you and Bellamy, but Bellamy just ran right past us –“ he trailed off and let his sentence hang in the air.

 

“Yer I have a feeling that not much would have stopped him from entering that gallery.”

 

Miller and Monty shared a smile before heading towards the door, walking behind Monty, he vaguely heard Jasper yell.

 

“Oh no. Don’t wait for me, it’s not like I stood out in the cold waiting for you-“  


The rest of his speech was cut off when the security guard shut the door. Miller huffed to stop the laugh building in his throat, preferring instead to smile at Monty and greet Clarke.

 

Who currently looked a bit confused and dejected, Bellamy was nowhere in sight but it was clear to Miller who had caused the emotion.

 

As Clarke welcomed them, Jasper bounding up behind him distracting Monty and giving Miller the opportunity to pull Clarke into a side hug.

 

“Whatever he did this time, I swear he didn’t mean it. His just … Bellamy.”

 

Clarke bit at her lip, before blinding Miller with a smile. Miller realized he was being brushed aside and moved on to find Bellamy and smack him as hard as possible without being kicked out by security.

 

-&-

 

Murphy stood in front of his own image; he’d been there for quite a while now. Many people had stopped and admired the image, commented on the artist’s technique and creation.

 

While he could readily admit the painting was well made and technical-wise gorgeous, the image itself was haunting and horrific.

 

It grated on Murphy, when a small voice spoke from behind him, “it’s cute, isn’t it?”

 

The sneer was on his face before he given turned, the word leaving his mouth before he given looked at the unwelcome voice. “Cute?”

 

The petite woman smirked up at him, her tan features screwing up at his tone. “Well, I don’t know much about art, but that’s a good description. Right?”

 

She flicked her head to the left and back, eyes moving between Murphy and the image behind him. It made his jaw click and his eyes twitch, “I wouldn’t say it’s _cute._ ”

 

Her hand came up to rub at her jaw, the other stayed behind her back. “No.” She hummed pretending to think, “and how exactly would you describe it?”

 

At Murphy’s lack of words she waved down a passing waiter, grabbing at the food on offer, filling her hand with the small dumplings and then proceeding to eat them while she waited for him to speak.

 

However, he didn’t have the opportunity to answer as Clarke was sweeping towards them, a clear look of relief on her face. “There you are John.”

 

Without a second thought, Murphy’s face relaxed into a small smile, his breath once again catching at the sight of her slim figure wrapped in the gold material, which sparkled under the low lights.

 

Clarke stopped next to him, freezing slightly at the sight of Murphy’s conversation partner. “Oh I’m sorry to interrupt,” Clarke frowned then. “Have we been introduced?”

 

“No.”

 

Clarke frowned once again, and Murphy restrained himself when he noticed something click for Clarke. In turn Murphy let his eyes wander down the newcomer’s figure, taking note of her simple black dress and leather jacket. Clearly indicating to anyone who cared to notice that she was greatly out of place in the elegant gallery.

 

“Then you mustn’t have been invited.” This time it was Murphy who frowned, a bit unsettled by Clarke’s tone.

 

The woman across from him took no notice, or at least she pretended as though she didn’t. “No, I mustn’t have been. Goodbye John.”

 

Before either of them could speak again, she was speeding out of their sights and off towards a side door that was reserved for caterers. Murphy smirked when he noticed one of her hands reach out and grab a tray from a passing waiter, grabbing the food and forcefully continuing towards her exit.

 

“Well, that was interesting.”

 

Murphy continued to watch the now closed door, “it certainly was something.”

 

Clarke leaned gently against his side to gain his full attention, “John?”

 

“hmm.”

 

Murphy watched her look carefully around the room, “I didn’t mean to scare her off.”

 

Murphy couldn’t help the scoff that escaped his throat, “then you probably should have been a bit nicer.”

 

A small tinge of red covered her cheeks, Murphy expected her to defend her actions. But instead she simply sighed, “yer you’re right.”

 

Cracking a smile, Murphy turned down to face Clarke. “You’ve done amazing Clarke. Everyone seems very impressed.”

 

Clarke released a deep breath, “you think so?”

 

“Well, we’ve been here for what, just over an hour and I mean look at that.”  
  
Turning Clarke’s body to face the wall across from Murphy’s portrait, was one of Clarke’s landscapes, it was a dark and gritty image of the woods with small delicate features that were only noticed upon closer inspection. It was quite stunning but that wasn’t what Murphy wanted Clarke to see, instead he angled her head down to the bottom left of the canvas.

 

Where a small blue sticker dot indicated that the painting had been sold.

 

Clarke’s face looked as if it could have broken in half with the large smile that overtook her face.

 

Murphy had never seen someone look as happy as Clarke did, “someone actually bought one!”

 

-&-

 

Bellamy flinched under the hand that came out of nowhere to land on the back of his head.

 

“What the hell did you do this time?”

 

Bellamy shuttered at Miller’s harsh words, a bit taken back by his intensity. “What are you talking about?”

 

He gave a classic Miller eye roll, “Clarke.”

 

Bellamy signed, “nothing.”

Miller gave him a dark look, which encouraged Bellamy to elaborate. “I mean it, nothing. We just couldn’t really talk because she was greeting everyone as they came in.”

 

“Did you maybe mention that you wanted to talk to her at _some_ point?”

 

Winching slightly, Bellamy turned around to focus on the closest canvas to him. “It was implied.”

 

“Well I happen to know that Clarke is finished greeting people now.” Miller smacked him on the shoulder, giving a tight squeeze before letting go. “By the way, the implication _there_ was that you should go find Clarke. Now.”

 

Bellamy smiled slightly when he noticed that Miller was moving back towards Monty and Jasper, his whole being turning and focusing on Monty as he spoke.

 

Moving through the gallery Bellamy made sure to stop slightly at every painting he passed, each of them were stunning and Bellamy found himself impressed with the way the paintings seemed to create a story. Working through the gallery, Bellamy noticed that the paintings seemed to seamlessly move between light and dark. Each of the canvases offered something new and different, but it was the portraits that truly captivated anyone who walked past.

 

It was for this reason that Bellamy found himself stopping quite frequently, it took quite a while to find Clarke and when he did, Bellamy contemplated leaving it for the moment when he noticed Clarke and Murphy were involved in what looked like quite an intense conversation. Clarke’s face was lit up and even Murphy was smiling brightly, each of them vibrating with excitement.

 

Breathing in deeply, Bellamy moved towards them.

 

“Clarke.” Bellamy sincerely hoped that he didn’t sound as breathless as he felt.

 

“Bellamy,” her voice had a lite pitch, but still held her husky undertones; he took great pleasure in just hearing her say his name.

 

Murphy snorted at their awkward conversation, when neither of them was able to find any words after their initial openings. Before he bumped his shoulder into Clarke’s and wandered off, to leave them alone.

 

“So-“

“Look-“

 

Both of them laughed uncomfortably.

 

“You first.” Clarke nodded decisively after she spoke, looking away from Bellamy while she waited for him to speak.

 

Bellamy shook himself out, “okay, I’m just going go for it. But feel free to tell me if I’m wrong.”

 

Clarke looked confused but then Bellamy was reaching forward to grasp at her arms, pulling her in towards his body. Before he was leaning down and capturing her mouth with his own.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright.... I'M SO SORRY!  
> I'm sorry about how long it's been since I updated, I'm just struggling a bit, I know where I wanna end the story and whats happening in between, it's just getting it written the way I envisioned. 
> 
> I hope I haven't lost to many people in the wait.   
> As always, thank you for the continual response to this story, it means the world to me! 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

Clarke spoke in her sleep.

 

It was deep mumblings and incoherent ramblings about nothing.

 

It was cute, and Bellamy had been woken by her soft words, with his hard body wrapped tight around her petite body, Clarke’s soft ramblings had made her breath huff against his neck, it tickled him into consciousness.

 

Her once sleek blonde hair that had cascading down her back in soft waves was now messed in tight curls that coiled tight around her face. The image combined with her soft words, was something else. Bellamy would be more then content to wake up like this everyday.

 

When she begun to arch into him, waking other parts of Bellamy, the thoughts of awkward conversations began to worry him again.

 

“Morning.” Her voice was husky and rough, sensing the beginning of worry in his tense shoulders; she rolled until her body covered his, Clarke easing his worry as quickly as it had come.

 

-&-

 

Finally exiting the bedroom, Clarke was slightly nervous. She’d been in Bellamy’s apartment enough that she shouldn’t feel so unsure of herself. But she could hear multiple voices coming from the kitchen, and she worried slightly about their response to her leaving the gallery last night with Bellamy.

 

She’d left Bellamy to shower, as she followed the voices towards the kitchen.

 

Turning the corner slightly, Clarke was met with Jasper’s slumped form, which upon her entrance jumped up and begun to cheer at her pant-less clad form, which was only covered by Bellamy’s large t-shirt. Miller was smirking slightly at Jasper’s antics, while Monty stood near-by, shock clear on his face at Jasper’s outrageous display.

 

“Wait-“ Jasper’s cheers stopped and his body slumped against the kitchen counter again, “are you coming from Bellamy’s or Murphy’s room?”

 

 

Clarke’s face flamed bright red and she was a bit unsure about how to respond to such a question, but Jasper’s face was so sincere and uncertain, that she knew he meant no harm. Thankfully, Bellamy’s entrance stopped all questions, when he leaned against her side to kiss her cheek before moving into the kitchen.

 

His actions were enough to have Jasper jumping again, this time Monty joining him, as they high-fived each other. Miller was once against smiling (as close to a smile as Clarke had ever seen anyway) softly at their antics.

 

“Breakfast?” Bellamy smiled gently at Clarke, the question clearly meant for her alone.

But Jasper was the one to answer.

 

“Yes please, your chocolate chip pancakes would be lovely.”

 

Clarke snorted at his formal response, and Bellamy’s corresponding growl.

 

“Let me rephrase. _Clarke_ , Would you like some breakfast?”

  
Noticing Jasper’s pleading eyes, Clarke gave Bellamy a small smirk while she responded. “Your chocolate chip pancakes would be lovely.”

 

Bellamy groaned, but dutifully complied and began to make the mixture. When he begun serving them onto plates, Clarke stood up and walked towards John’s room.

 

“Hey John, Bellamy’s made breakfast.” Clarke opened his door, only to find his bed empty and unused. Clarke frowned slightly, accessing the room before turning and slowly walking back to the kitchen. Along the way, Clarke checked rooms towards the kitchen, expecting to find John’s body passed out somewhere along the way.

 

Except he wasn’t here, and it irked Clarke in way she didn’t think she had a right to feel.

 

Leaning against the bench Clarke dug into her pancakes, smiling gently when Bellamy made a point of eating his own breakfast standing in front of her when Jasper refused to relinquish the seat beside her.

 

It was a sweet moment that Clarke enjoyed far more then she probably had the right to, but Bellamy was smiling at her and the pancakes were as good as Jasper had made them sound, it was a great morning that only added to the high she had felt after last night’s gallery opening.

 

“Are you free today? For lunch?”

 

Swaying on the stool, Clarke savored the pancake in her mouth before giving Bellamy his answer, “I could be.”

 

“I promise you some great company.” Bellamy leant forward across the bench until their lips were almost touching.

 

Suddenly Jasper’s face was in her peripheral vision, “yer I could come.”

Bellamy’s hand shot out to smack Jasper, which left Clarke in fit of giggles.

 

-&-

 

Murphy groaned as he rolled to the side of the bed, it was uncomfortable and lumpy and god his head ached. What the hell had he gotten up to after last night?

 

“Hey, you’re not leaving so soon are you?”

 

Murphy slowly turned to face the voice behind his back, the seductive look normally didn’t work for Murphy, but if the opposite was going home to find Clarke and Bellamy, he was willing to be seduced… at least for the moment.

 

-&-

 

The front door slammed against the wall, “fuck” Murphy muttered, the sound reverberated through his head making it pulse and ache.

 

Following the sounds, Murphy stopped when he was met with Miller, Jasper and Monty.

 

Pulling his face up into a tense sneer, Murphy captured their attention, “why are you people always here?”

 

“It might have escaped your attention, but I live here.”

 

Murphy turned on Miller, “I meant them.”

 

Miller gave him a blank look in response, and knowing he wasn’t getting the reaction he wanted. Murphy stormed towards his room, slamming the door for affect.

 

“Nice suit Murphy!”

 

Looking down at his crumped, dirty suit. Murphy growled and fell onto his bed, ignoring Jasper’s taunt.

 

 

Rolling to the side, his face crashed into paper crumpling it in the process.

 

_Morning John,_

_Text me after you read this to let me know your alive, your phone was off when I tried to call._

_You have until 6 tonight, or I’ll assume someone has murdered you for your asshat attitude. (In which case, I would support them.)_

_Miss you and Love you, Clarke. Xxx_

****

Grimacing at the message she'd written, Murphy crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it across the room. His alarm stated that it was only 1pm, he had just under 5 hours before he’d have to deal with that.

 

-&-

 

“Mmmm, favorite colour?”

 

Shuffling beneath his arm, Clarke twisted to lay her legs across Bellamy’s lap, “you’re really deep Bellamy.”

 

“Hey!” Stretching out to snatch the sunglasses from her face, Bellamy moved them further away from her grasp until she was forced to straddle his waist. When they were finally face to face, he let her snatch them back, sliding them onto her head. Tugging on the tight curls around her face, Bellamy finally continued. “I am really deep.”

 

“Hmm, sure. Yep.”

 

Bellamy groaned as she leant forward and bit his lips, “green.”

 

“What?”

 

“My favorite colour is green.”

 

Oh, Bellamy sat confused for a few moments, looking up as he was; he was blinded for a moment when the sun hit Clarke’s hair.

 

Clarke tugged at the locks at the back of his head, “yours?”

 

“Blue,” Clarke threw her head back and laughed deeply, before smacking her hand against his chest, “serious?”

 

“Well, I mean it wasn’t always, but things change.”

 

Clarke twisted out of his grip and returned to sitting by his side at the park bench, “cute Bellamy, really cute.”

 

“We really going to do this whole question thing,” Clarke’s hand rested softly against Bellamy’s thigh. “ We’ve been friends for a while now, and honestly I know the little things Bellamy. I know enough to know that this-” she paused to take a moment to indicate between the two of them. “Is something I want.”

 

Bellamy reached out to draw Clarke into the circle of his arms, tipping her head back to capture her mouth. Moving with her, to and fro, until Bellamy was hardened and Clarke was gasping and each of them were forced to release the other.

 

Pulling back from one another, Bellamy curled his larger hand around hers, they both sat for a few minutes watching the people around them move. When his mind was no longer clouded with lust, and Clarke’s breath had lost its raspy tenor, Bellamy gained the courage to finally ask the question that had plagued his since last night.

 

“So,” Bellamy coughed to clear his throat, “I couldn’t help but notice your mom wasn’t there last night.”  
  
It was a risky move bringing up a topic, that had already caused a fight between them once before. “You really wanna talk about this Bellamy?”

 

“No.” At Clarke’s sigh, he tightened his hand. “But I want to know you, the you behind the simple questions. I want to be in your life, be apart of your life.”

 

“You don’t need to know my mom to do that.”

 

There was another moment of silence before she began to speak again, “I invited her, and she declined.” Clarke frowned slightly, “actually I’m pretty sure her assistant did the declining.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I emailed her, and her response was signed ‘ _from the office of Senator Griffin.’_

_“_ She didn’t call you.”

 

Clarke pulled her hand away to cross against her body, clearly defensive, “well it’s not like I called her either.”

 

“That’s different Clarke, you made an effort to invite her to something, something important to you. Besides you were providing her with details, it was easier to email the invite. If she couldn’t come the least she could have done was call to say she wasn’t able to come. Or I don’t know, say she was proud of you!”

 

By the time Bellamy’s rant was over, Clarke was smiling wide at him, “enough of this, I was promised lunch and it’s almost 1pm, I’m getting hungry.”

 

Clarke begun walking away before Bellamy could say another word, so instead he simple caught up with her to catch her hand. Ignoring the tinge of sadness in her eyes and instead directing her towards a Café not too far away.

 

-&-

 

Clarke slipped into a side booth so that her and Bellamy would still be able to touch as they ate. She assumed it hadn’t escaped Bellamy’s notice as he shared a conniving smile with her, as if they’d both just completed some big scam.

The waitress left to collect their drinks while they both looked at their menus, Clarke was happy to note that despite their awkward tense moment from before, Bellamy was happy to breeze over it. Content to just hold her hand against his thigh, his own thumb rubbing against the skin on the back of her hand.

 

While his own attention was focused on the menu, Clarke took a moment to scrutinize his face, checking for any sign that her lack of honesty and willingness to talk had upset him.   
  
Finding nothing, Clarke leant against his shoulder; Bellamy removed his arm to wrap around her and Clarke was happy. This was good and simple and easy.

 

Her mother was the opposite of all of that and it wasn’t just her either, to even begin to explain her relationship with her mother to Bellamy she would have to explain Cage too.

 

Which was a topic, Clarke wouldn’t, _couldn’t,_ talk about. Not yet. Clarke's teeth scraped harshly against her bottom lip, maybe John could help her. 

 

 

 

 

 

Clarke accompanied Bellamy home, after lunch he’d bashfully admitted that he did have some work to do for a class he was TA-ing early Monday morning. Clarke had happily agreed to come with him, to see John, that particular admission had visibly dampened Bellamy’s mood, but before Clarke could continue he’d simply agreed and held her hand as they made their way back to his place.  

 

Arriving at his place, Bellamy gently held Clarke and pressed his own lips along hers.

 

He moved off and Clarke swayed on her feet slightly, dazed and unsure. Only shaken out it when Miller walked past, he made no comment but made a point of hitting his shoulder against her in greeting.

 

Turning towards John’s door, Clarke slipped herself between the sparse opening in the doorway she created, seeing John’s room was dark.

 

Jumping onto the bed, Clarke began to shake at his shoulder.

 

“ _John,_ ” Clarke sketched out his name, making the one syllable into five, John responded with a dark growl. Clarke smacked his forehead softly, hoping to jolt him awake.

 

Instead he grumbled out a small response. “Em sleeping.”

 

“Get a bit wild last night?” It was said with jest, but she was honestly curious.  

 

“Hmm,”

 

Huffing out a husky laugh, Clarke lay next to John, content to simply wait until John was ready to wake.

 

Until her own thoughts became too much and she rolled until her face was situated right next to his, “I think I’m in trouble.”

 

The eye closest to Clarke popped open, waiting for her to continue. “I think I might have to tell Bellamy about –“ Clarke released her breath, “about Cage.”

 

John rolled to his side, both eyes intently moving across Clarke’s face. “Really?”

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so long, don't know how that happened.... haha
> 
> Anyway thanks so much to everyone who has left kudos, subscribed, bookmarked, commented or whatever! All of it just means so much to me. 
> 
> And thanks to Kogane Cocaine (Hale_Fire), for making me feel so guilty for not updating that I immediately started writing the 19th chapter. 
> 
> Hopefully you all enjoy this chapter, it's a little different. I wanted to give some background of Clarke and her relationship with Murphy, hopefully you enjoy it!

_11-year-old Clarke was woken from her slumber by the sound of a ringing phone, it’s sound resonating throughout the house. Sitting up, Clarke paused to listen to the coming conversation._

_She could hear muffled voices and movement through the kitchen, near her room. Clarke shifted her body, rising from her bed to lay her body against her bedroom door, her ear pressed tightly against the hardwood of her door. Clarke was just able to make out her mother’s voice._

_“I won’t bother coming home afterwards, I’ll just stay and come home tonight.”_  
  
Clarke shuttered at the statement, listening further she could make out the sounds of her mother preparing to leave.

_Peering through the small gap she created when opening her bedroom door, Clarke managed to make out her mother, now dressed, leaning up towards Cage. Bestowing him with a small peck on the lips._

_Cage watched her mother walk away and Clarke responded by shutting her door as quietly as possible, before running towards her window, waiting only for a moment to watch her mother’s car drive away before jumping beneath her bed covers._

_Pulling the fabric tightly around her head, as if able to protect herself from the coming torment._

_The bed dipped under his weight, his hand pulling at the sheets, her own grip failing in comparison to his. The bed shifted as his figure moved closer, his body leaning down to graze his lips against the back of her head._

_Squeezing her eyes shut tightly, Cage’s lips begun their descent down her head, reaching the back of her neck, his tongue slipped out to taste the skin on her neck._

_“Wake up princess.”_

_Clarke shook at his words, and without her consent Cage’s hands came down to grip at her hips and twist her around until Clarke was now face to face with Cage._

_“It’s just you and me now.” Cage words were twisted with a dark smile._

_Clarke kept her eyes tightly shut, ignoring the roaming hands._

**_5 Years Ago_ **

**_New York; Griffin Residence_ **

 

 

Clarke’s body tossed from side to side, jolting awake suddenly when the thoughts of Cage become too much.

 

Moving to stand against the window in her room, Clarke noted that the sky was pinkish-red, the sun not quite high enough in the sky for it to be considered ‘day time’.

 

Sitting against the window, Clarke leaned her head against the cold glass. Eyeing the unpacked boxes that littered her new room. Just as sleep begun to settle in her mind and force away her waking thoughts her door rattled against the lock she’d installed herself.

 

Opening the door, Clarke sighed upon seeing her mother’s tired figure standing at her door.

 

“Clarke, we’ve discussed this. I don’t want you using that lock.”  
  
Clarke refused to respond, her mother chose to continue as if she had. “I understand it. But I need to be able to find you at all times. I don’t want something to happen to you.”

 

Her mother’s implication was clear, Abby’s eyes were running across Clarke’s body as if searching for some sign that her speculation was correct and Clarke was in fact harming herself as Abby assumed she would now be prone to do. 

 

But Clarke was tired and not ready to placate her mother’s fears. Instead she found herself unnerved and angry, “don’t worry mother, Cage isn’t here now. Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

 

Abby’s face soured and her body shrunk back as if unsure about how to respond, “then you don’t need the lock.”

 

Abby’s harsh tone grated on Clarke's nerves, “the locks for you. Not him.”

 

Attempting to shut the door against the oncoming conversation, Clarke sagged against the door when her mother’s arm shot out to stop the movement.

 

“Clarke I-,” her sentence cut off, her eyes watering before she blinked them away and instead stood tall, strong and impassive like the woman Clarke knew her to be. “You need to go to school today. I know you’re getting used to everything. But it’s been two weeks and you’ve only gone four times. I’m finishing at 5 today, I expect you to go to school and then meet me at the hospital. I’d like to go to dinner tonight Clarke.”

 

“Got it. School. Hospital. Dinner.” Clarke moved from the door, the door swinging shut behind her.

 

 

 

 

 

Just before 10, Clarke shuffled from her bedroom to the kitchen, still dressed in the t-shirt and shorts that she'd slept in.

 

Stumbling in the kitchen while searching for something to eat, Clarke’s eyes caught on the small note and cursive writing that covered it.

 

_I’m trying Clarke._

_Please try with me._

_Please be there at 5._

_I love you, Mom xx_

Clarke’s eyes twisted to face the clock against the wall, still sitting on the kitchen bench, since no one had bothered to hang it since their move.

 

If she hurried she could make it to school by 10:30.

 

And she did want to try. Clarke wanted her mother back. She wanted a relationship with her mother.

 

 

 

 

So, Clarke did the right thing, she went to school and played nice with those who spoke to her and at exactly 4:35 she left the house to walk to the hospital.

 

At exactly 5 o’clock Clarke forced a small smile onto her face as she knocked on her mother’s office door. The door swung open, Abby’s harsh expression meeting Clarke’s soft smile.

 

There was no hello, no soft embraces, just a quick exchange of information. Before her mother brushed her off, in exchange for a meeting with a colleague. Thrusting the car keys into Clarke’s hands and waving her away, explaining she would not be long.

 

Exhaling harshly, Clarke found her way to Abby’s car.   

 

Setting herself up in the car, music blared from the speakers.

 

By 5:43, Abby was still missing and Clarke found herself checking her phone and hoping that a message would be coming through explaining her absence. Finding nothing of the sort Clarke decided to call.

 

Before she could even speak, Abby spoke.

 

“Clarke.” Her voice stern and reproachful, “I’m with a colleague, you need to be patient.”

 

Sliding her phone into her pocket, she couldn’t help but let out a deep laugh.

 

“Of course,” standing as much as possible within the car's confines, Clarke wriggled and moved her body into the driver’s seat. “I’m _trying_ Clarke.” Turning the key in the ignition the dashboard lit up as the car spurred and started. “ _Please try with me._ ”

 

Pressing her foot down on the accelerator, the car took off under Clarke’s aggression.      

 

 

 

-&-

 

Swaying on her feet, Clarke struggled to grip the door handle, one hand holding tightly to the bottle of gin. The other dragging the keys against the dark black paint of Abby’s car.

 

“whoops…”

 

Leaning forward to eye the damage, Clarke laughed.

 

Bringing up the glass bottle in her left hand, Clarke flung her hand down. The gin bottle smashing and taking out the back window behind the drivers’ seat at the same time.

 

Reaching her hand inside to unlock the front door, glass scraped against the inner crevice of her elbow. But her alcohol induced brain was unable to notice the pain that shot through her arm.

 

  

 

 

 

 

Clarke doesn’t quite remember what happened next or how she ended up on the side of the road. But the car was now flipped on its side, her last viable thought was that there was now something as damaged and broken as she was.

 

Although Abby would probably care more about the car.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“How could you be so stupid Clarke?”

 

Wrapping her hands around the jello cup, Clarke frowned, hospital food sucked.

 

Abby was staring at her closely, obviously waiting for an answer, “I know right.” Clarke sneered before continuing, “If I’d known the food was this bad here, I wouldn’t have done it.”  
  
“Don’t be smart, this is serious.” Abby crossed her arms, “you are so lucky that the judge has taken your situation into consideration and is only forcing you to do community service and join a help group.”

 

Clarke slammed the cup down against the small table that laid across her bed, “most parents would say I’m lucky to be alive.”

 

“Clarke- “

 

“Although that’s never been your main priority. I always forget, reputation comes first.” Her voice was bitter and harsh. Turning from her mother, Clarke twisted her body into the hard bed, closing her eyes against the stabbing pain in her ribs and the ache in her heart.

 

 

-&-

 

It was Clarke’s third group session and she was listening to the girl next to her tattle on about how she shouldn’t be punished for her anger issues, because one upon a time daddy slapped her across the face. Clarke tried not to be bitter.

 

From the sounds of it, her mother had pulled her away from the situation and divorced the father pretty much as soon as it occurred. Clarke couldn’t help the small splinter like feeling that stuck in her throat, she wished her own mother had even a morsel of caution and care that this girl’s mother seemed to have.

 

Shaking out her head, Clarke told herself that her own trauma did not negate someone else’s pain.

 

But as the blabbering girl, whined and rubbed at her face. Clarke knew that she would never share her own story, at least not with these people.

 

Her eyes searched out the room, eventually catching on John Murphy’s own dark, and unforgiving stare. His face was taunt and filled with criticism, as he once again stared directly at Clarke.

 

Clarke shifted under his gaze, his watching eyes making her skin prickle and her hair itch. He seemed to notice her discomfort and spent the rest of the session ensuring she continued to feel that way.

 

“Clarke before we finish for the night. Would you like to take a moment to talk?”

 

Clarke eyed the older man, his eyes soft and caring, Clarke still didn’t like it.

 

Shaking her head slightly, Murphy’s own eyes seemed to catch on her frown and find pleasure in her unease.

 

 

 

 

 

Standing outside the meeting hall, Clarke shivered in the cold wind. By this point a majority of the group was gone. An old and dirty car skidded into the parking lot, the breaks screeching under the force of the driver’s foot.

 

Without noticing, Clarke’s face screwed up in displeasure at the sound that wracked her ears.

 

The door slammed shut, Murphy’s upper body slipping outside the open passenger window to gain her attention as the car drove at a slow pace until it parked beside her.

 

“Sorry Princess, we didn’t mean to hurt your delicate senses.” Murphy grinned brightly at the look of uncertainly and hurt that flashed across her gentle face.

 

Slamming shut the heavy door in her mind that separated her nightmares from her waking life, Clarke attempted to put on a brave face. “You didn’t, I’m fine.”

 

Murphy sniggered, “You know, it’s kind of unfair that you get caught drinking and driving, wreck a car and only get hit with group therapy.”

 

Clarke refused to show her agitation at his words, “And community service; picking up trash.”

 

“Hmm,” he slipped his body from the car, out through the car window. Striding forward to swing an arm up and around her shoulder, “must be nice to have a rich mom who can buy your way out of anything.”

 

He paused slightly at her shutter, watching as she cringed away from his wandering hands. Clarke noticed he frowned slightly at her reaction, but offered her a small amount of space in response.

 

“Murphy! COME ON! Stop fucking around and let’s go!” Murphy brought his hand up to wave away the voice that drifted from the car.

 

“Mommy running a little late?” His voice curling at the end, as if speaking to a young child.  

 

Making a point to turn her back on him, Clarke stuttered when she felt a hand drag against the curls at the back of her head.

 

-&-

 

Murphy sneered, leaning down to place his head against her turned shoulder. After noticing the ease at which he was able to unnerve the princess, Murphy found himself indulging in the actions, a sense of pleasure tingling at the base of his spine in response.

 

“Come on princess-” Murphy broke off as Clarke stepped away from him, his head dropping down without her shoulders support.

 

“Stop calling me that.”

 

“I’ll make you a deal. Spend the night with me-” Her body twisted round her hands came up fast, flying at his face before he could even process what was occurring,

 

“You’re a sick asshole!”

 

Grabbing Clarke’s hands, his mood souring fast at the first strike to his face.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant survive a night in my world and I’ll stop.”

 

Her hands still gripped tightly within his own much larger ones, stopped their struggle momentarily. “Stop what?”

  
There was genuine confusion and clear innocence displayed on her face, if Murphy had a working heart he might feel a twinge of guilt. His eyes strayed down, catching on her figure. If she wasn’t a rich bitch, he might actually be tempted.

 

“You still have another, what, 17 sessions.” Clarke gave an uncertain nod, “I’m going to make them completely unbearable, unless…” he let the challenge hang in the air.   

 

“Unless -?” Clarke prompted Murphy to continue.

 

Rolling his eyes before continuing, “unless you survive in my world.” Murphy tapped his fingers against her forehead, “lucky your rich because you don’t seem so quick on the uptake.”

 

Murphy watched as her eyes turned to entry of the parking lot, her eyes glazing over somewhat before finally returning to him.

 

“Okay.”

 

Murphy let the left corner of his lips turn upwards. This could be fun.

 

Slamming the car door shut, he waited until the moment just before she shut the car door behind him, before signaling for them to go.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Oh, Fuck you!” Atom jumped towards the bouncer, his fists flying and bouncing off the hard muscle of the bouncer’s chest.

 

Murphy let out a gruff laugh, slinging his arm around Clarke’s shoulders, stopping her from dropping to the ground while they watched Atom been thrown away from the club door. He had to admit, he was quite impressed with the quantity and speed with which she had downed her drinks.  

 

“You right there Princess?”

 

Clarke frowned, her eyebrow crinkling in thought. “No.”

 

Smirking, Murphy rubbed his hand across her shoulder blade surprised when she didn’t flinch away for once, “hmm?”

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

Letting the moment pass, Murphy promised himself that he’d make it a point to use the nickname more often.

 

It was almost 3am, and Murphy had expected Clarke to be long gone by none. But she’d stayed by his side all night, intent to prove him wrong in his opinion of her, making sure to match him drink for drink.

 

“Come back to my place?” Clarke shuttered as his breath floated across her neck and he knew he had her.   
  
Atom drove them back, the car sliding from one lane to the next. Murphy was extremely thankful that the roads were empty.

 

Murphy slammed her against the front door, Atom’s car horn blaring at their actions before screeching fast out of view.   


Leaning forward Murphy met her lips in a harsh and forceful kiss, her arms coming up to wrap around him, pressing into his back, her fingers splaying far across his shirt before gripping tight and yanking him forward for further access to his mouth.

 

Without meaning to he found himself gripping her hips in a tight embrace, tight enough he felt her wince.

 

“Inside?” It was a challenge and an exit, all in one, Murphy knew it would be the only time he’d offer.

 

There was moment of hesitation, before Clarke nodded softly against his chest.

 

Once inside Murphy gripped her neck, forcing her back into his embrace whilst leading her backwards towards the small bedroom offset from the entryway.

 

They eventually found themselves laying on the bed, his body between her upturned legs, her thighs wrapping tight around his waist as she pulled his shirt from his body.

 

As his hands started sliding up her shirt, he couldn’t help but snap out one last dig at her. “You like this Princess?” His lips diving forward on the attack to stop any reply.

 

The response was immediate, she faltered beneath him, her hands dropping down from their once tight grip around him. Her expression dropping away and leaving him to stare at her now blank face.

 

“Clarke?” She was shivering beneath him, unable to meet his eyes.

 

Murphy released her from his grip, pulling back to sit against his knees, “Clarke?”

 

It wasn’t until he reached across to the bedside table to flick the lamp on there, that she seemed to ‘wake’ again. Clarke bolted from the bed, his hand shot out to grab her arm, pulling her into towards him. As she smacked against his chest she stilled, Murphy looked down to notice that the light from the lamp had lit up his chest, he felt the moment she noticed.

 

Her eyes running across the scars that littered his broad chest, he froze, slightly uncomfortable with the understanding and sympathetic expression that crossed her face.

 

“Oh John –” Clarke broke off unsure.

 

The look she gave him was enough to know though that Murphy had found someone as broken and damaged as him.       

 


End file.
